Desperado
by Lightning Streak
Summary: Alternate Universe: The American Civil War rages on in the year of 1862. Sam, a 19 year old girl, runs away from home to become a hospital nurse. Will she find a soldier who will capture her vulnerable heart?
1. Decisions

_Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom. _

_Alas, for my mind has once again torn me from my academics! Oh well, nothing I can do about it now….._

_Now, this idea came from my mind during this one book I was reading. It was about the civil war and how many women ran away from home to either be in the army or to be a hospital nurse. And then my mind struck an idea…_

* * *

**Desperado**

**Setting: **_June 8, 1862, Springport, Virginia: Somerset, Maryland : South Carolina/Virginia Border_

_**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE**_

* * *

The old stairway creaked as nineteen year old Samantha Manson snuck upstairs to her room. Her violet eyes darted in paranoia, for she was careful not to be caught with the information she carried. Taking one last look behind her, she quietly opened her door and shut it behind her.

Sam sat down on her bed and pulled a letter out of her sleeve.

_Dear Sam,_

_It has been so long since I have written you! I have not had time to even relax, it's so busy here! I also apologize for the shortness of this letter, for if I had the time I would gladly relate many months worth of interesting tales and sorrows, and stories of this one particular soldier with whom I may have fallen in love._

_But that's not why I wrote to you. The truth is that we desperately need more nurses. There are not enough nurses to care for the ever growing number of wounded soldiers, and so we are worked twice as hard. The war is progressing into an absolute nightmare. We take in over a hundred soldiers a day, but our hospital truly can only handle a maximum of fifty. I recall the way you used to care for the sick children around the town. And I almost disgust myself when I think of involving you, but I know you've always wanted an adventure._

_If you remember, I am employed in the Somerset Hospital of Maryland. I'm not forcing you to enroll as a fellow nurse, but we could use an extra hand. Not to mention you might just find yourself a soldier to love…_

_Yours truly,_

_Caroline_

Leaning against the headboard, Sam raised an eyebrow at her friend's silly notions of love. But she quickly took in the underlying gravity of the letter.

_So they need nurses, huh? I wonder..._ She tucked the note under her straw mattress and walked out of the room with determined air.

The first thing her mother did when she saw Sam was gasp. "Samantha!" She walked over to her and handed Sam an apron. "I've looked all over for you, what in the _world _have you been doing?"

Sam tied the apron around her and tried to answer her mother. "Just, uh…in my room."

Mrs. Manson stared at her daughter with a knowing gaze. _What is she hiding now? _"What were you doing in your room?" _Best not to beat around the bush. _

_Does she know?_ "I was reading," Sam replied casually.

"What were you reading?" _We had to sell all of our books..._

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious."

Sam drew in a breath, knowing her mother would persist. "I was reading a…letter." She cringed at her own words.

Mrs. Manson stirred her homemade soup. "May I see this letter? And who is it from?"

Sam was getting really uncomfortable. "It's from Caroline, Mom. Don't you remember her?"

"Of course I do. She's the one that fills your head with nonsense. It was a blessing that she finally moved away. Now, give me the letter."

She knew better than to disobey her, for her mother was someone not to be crossed. Reluctantly, she retrieved the letter from her room and brought it down for Mrs. Manson to see.

Her mother scanned through the letter and, within seconds of doing so, ripped it. "Absolutely not." She returned to her soup. "I will _not_ have you playing charades and talking to men I don't know."

Sam's face fell.

"And why not? You've always said that I'm the best at medical care!"

"Dearest, there's a difference between that and what you are asking for," her mother said in a matter-of-factly tone.

Sam put her hands on her waist. "I'm perfectly capable-"

She was interrupted. "-Of getting lost and kidnapped and who knows what else! Samantha, do you realize that you are nineteen, which is of age to wed?"

The sudden change of subject instantly threw Sam off track. And she didn't like where the conversation was going…

"I should hope I know my own age," she snapped at her mother, trying to even the score.

And, of course, her mom just _had_ to make things worse.

"You can be a woman of society now! Of class and dignity! Do you know what happened today?"

"...I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Well," her mother started, "I was outside planting the tomatoes when the mayor of the town, Eth Andreas, comes up to me. Apparently, his son Eliot has an eye on you, Sammikins. And of course, I said yes."

Sam's knuckles turned white from gripping the kitchen counter too hard. "Said yes to _what_?"

"An engagement, of course!" Sam stood there in shock, absolutely speechless…and it would be fact to say that she suddenly felt extremely light headed.

"B-but...Mother, why?" She forgot about being a nurse; for that moment thoughts of an unwanted engagement filled her brain.

And then reality kicked in. _She did WHAT? _

"They have money," Mrs. Manson said simply. And, because of that statement, her daughter lost all control.

**"**_Money?_ Is that all you care about?" She seethed with disbelief. "I can't believe you'd agree to an engagement without asking me first! What kind of mother are you?" In her righteous fury, she turned to storm out, but she was grabbed by the arm and forced to look at her mother.

"You know that ever since your father died we've been short on money. You'd learn to love each other later. You may not yet understand it, but I _refuse _to let the family name remain in ruins," Mrs. Manson concluded with finalty.

It was unfortunately true; with the death of Mr. Manson, Mrs. Manson had squandered the family money and forced them both into bankruptcy. They were utterly poor, and they looked it too. Sam was beautiful, with her silky raven hair, pale skin, and sparkling violet eyes. But her hands were smudged with dirt, just like her skirts. People stared at her in pity, knowing the high society pedestal from which her family had fallen.

Of course, Sam was far too proud to admit it.

Seeing that she had hit a upon the truth, Mrs. Manson forcefully continued. "Look at you! Do you _want_ to be poor? Do you _want_ to live your life starving? Do you _want_ to have only a couple of homespun dresses?"

Sam hung her head, although not in defeat. It was to hide a calculating glance. "But I want to marry for love." _And I could find my own husband at the hospital. That is, if only_…

"Go up to your room and reflect on what this marriage can bring. Hopefully, you'll come to your senses and will marry Eliot. Is that clear?"

Her daughter didn't answer her as she made her way up the rickety stairs. Of course, she hadn't expected an answer. Not yet, anyways…

The widow heard a door slam and flinched.

* * *

Oh, how her mother _infuriated_ her! Samantha threw herself onto her bed and screamed in her pillow. Or rather, her worn blanket crunched up as a pillow.

_I will **NOT** marry anyone. I will not_…Tears gently rolled down her pale face. _Why can't she accept the fact that I want to help people? Is that so wrong? _

Grudgingly, she look outside of her window to see the sun setting. And with a start, she realized that she still had to feed the only horse they had.

Sam reluctantly got up off her bed and wiped her tears from her face. Proceding to the old barn, she was careful that her mother didn't see her face.

Once she walked outside, Sam took a deep breath. Filling a bucket with hay, she headed over to the horse.

While the mare ate, Sam subconsciously stoked its mane. "Belle, what am I going to do?"

Belle snorted in reply, receiving a laugh from Sam in return. And then, like a lightning bolt, she had it.

She had her plan to run away all figured out.

* * *

**Somewhere in South Carolina**

* * *

A ground shaking explosion blasted through the front lines of the battle, throwing a dozen bodies flying backwards.

A twenty year old soldier dropped to the ground instinctively. Better known as Private Daniel Fenton of the Union Army, he shielded himself from the impact.

As soon as the ground stopped shaking, Daniel pulled his musket closer to him, narrowed his blue eyes, and fired straight into another Rebel Brigade. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw a few Confederate soldiers drop to the ground, although if it was from his bullet, Danny wasn't quite sure. A part of him didn't even care anymore.

He just wanted to get the hell out of there.

Daniel carefully crawled over to the remaining men from his own brigade. Bullets whizzed around his head, questioning his sanity (or what was left of it) as they flew past.

"Danny, _DUCK!"_ one of them cried out. No questions. No second guesses. Danny immediately collasped to the ground, and a bullet flew over his head.

The metallic stench of blood was everywhere and on everyone. Even Danny could barely take in the sight before him. But, he felt that he had to. Not only for _his_ life, but for the good of the country. To keep the Union together and for the good of the innocent people sold as slaves…

So why did those things feel so hollow, here on the battlefield?

With a groan, he forced himself out of the mud. Finally he reached his friends, who were just as worn down as him. "Danny, I thought for a second you were gone," one of them said in relief. He was an African American himself, formally known as Private Tucker Foley. He wore his military-issued beret backwards, just for kicks.

And God, it felt good to see that familiar sight.

Danny loaded his musket and randomly shot out into the darkness of the clearing. "Thanks for the warning, or else I _would_ have been gone." An internal shiver echoed through his body.

That was all they could say, for soon they found themselves under a ceasless, hard fire from the Rebels.

Constant moving, dodging, and firing took place. Danny feared he would run out of ammunition before the battle ended. He felt a bullet singe his wool jacket, and instantly adrenaline helped him pick up speed.

Suddenly, the firing stopped. Shocked, he took a quick glance around to see many taking advantage of the momentary cease-fire by either collapsing or refueling on ammuntion. He chose stocking up on bullets. Just in case. With Tucker by his side, they carefully extracted amunition from dead soldiers.

They had managed to gather at least two dozen bullets when, suddenly, the Rebels attacked once again. And this time, there was no place to hide.

Danny dropped to the ground again, firing straight ahead into the Rebel Brigades. Right by his side, Tucker mirrored his movements, eyes narrowed with a battle-hardened concentration.

With more weapons, the Confederate army pushed forward into Union trenches.

"Fall back!" cried one of the Yankee generals. "All of you!"

Tucker turned to him and stood up. "Come on, man, we gotta go!"

Danny's eyes widened. "Tucker, no!" He reached out to pull him back down, but it was to late.

And then, time just seemed to stop. A strange whistling noise seared past his ear drums, and he saw Tucker shot twice through his chest.

The fellow soldier's body jerked and collapsed to the ground with the impact.

In pure desperation, Danny crawled over to his fallen friend. Tucker was barely alive now, hanging on by a thread. His breathing was ragged and his eyes unfocused. Blood poured endlessly from his wounds, where his rib cage was torn apart. "Oh God," Danny whispered, his lips quivering with untold words. "Tucker? Tuck, can you hear me?"

Tucker gasped, teal eyes wide with the dark knowledge of death. His reddened lips opened to speak, but nothing came out.

Then, his eyes hollowed.

And just like that, he was gone. Danny's childhood friend was robbed of his life.

"Tuck?" he called desperately. He swallowed hard. "Tucker, come on, please!"

Something horrible tore into his heart, and tears leaked from his eyes. He couldn't leave his friend out here.

He just _couldn't_.

"Please don't be dead," Danny whispered hoarsely, holding onto Tucker's limp hand. "God, just...please..." Dry sobs shook his shoulders.

Dozens of men stormed around them as the entire Yankee army retreated.

"Soldier, get the hell up!" one of his commanding officers yelled as he passed by. He hooked his hand into the back of Danny's collar. "Got no time for goodbyes!"

And as he forcibly tore Danny away from Tucker, whizzing bullets and cannons exploded into the ground. Danny allowed his commanding officer to half-drag him back to safe lines, almost too shocked to move, to breathe, to live.

How much longer could he last in this battlefield of doom and destruction?

* * *

_Whoa…depressing ending for a first chapter. _

_So, how did you like it? When I said it was alternate universe, I wasn't kidding. Anyway, please no flames anyone. They can only hurt._

_But you guys know the drill: You review, and I update._

_Lightning Streak_


	2. Escaping

Disclaimer: Yeah! I own DP! -Lawyers crowd my room- You guys take away all the fun. Fine I DON'T own Danny Phantom…. -Lawyers disappear- -Sighs.-

Reviews! So many reviews! Thank you so much! At first, I thought this story wouldn't get hardly any, considering it's a realistic fiction, but you proved me wrong!

Yeah…sorry for so many slow updates. I've just been so busy with everything else going on in my life…

* * *

**Desperado**

**Chapter 2: Escaping**

* * *

Clear moonlight lit the way for Sam as she ran to Belle's stable, carefully avoiding the gardens. In a canvas bag, she carried a loaf of bread and thirty cents. It was the most she could spare, without leaving her mother broke.

Sam quietly opened up the wooden doors, and Belle's ears perked as she faced her mistress. When Sam got closer, she nuzzled her palm.

"Hey, girl," Sam whispered to the horse. "Do you want to help me tonight?" Belle snorted. "Good, cause we're gonna go on…a trip." Sam set her bag down and began to saddle Belle up.

Belle neighed in excitement, but Sam quickly quieted her. "Shh! We can't make any noise that would wake Mother up!"

Sam closed the doors behind them and mounted Belle. She and the mare galloped out from the backyard onto the dirt road.

Together, they flew past the wooden houses that made up their town. The houses soon gave way to a more upper-class part of town. Mansions loomed in the darkness, speaking of untold wealth that Sam had no desire to partake in.

One mansion in particular was familiar; it was the mayor's home. Sam stopped Belle for a second and stared up in the windows.

And yet the more she stared, the easier it was to imagine bars on the windows, as though the mansion was a prison. Sam smiled, glad she picked the other choice. She softly nudged Belle and they took off once more at a fast pace.

Little did she know, someone was watching her from one of the windows…

* * *

**The North Carolina/ Virginia Border**

* * *

Danny's eyes widened and he gasped as he felt a bullet rip into his skin and tear through muscle and sinew. He collapsed back, his rifle falling to the dirt. He instinctively pulled his arm to his chest, cradling it as it bled and throbbed.

Curses tore from his lips as he ducked behind a tree, trying to create a makeshift bandage. He tore a piece from his jacket and wrapped it around his arm.

_From now on, I'm going to have to be away from the front lines._

The ground rumbled, signaling a nearby explosion of rather big magnitude. Danny looked up, searching for a safer place than where he was.

He crawled over to where a fairly large brigade of his own comrades were shooting.

Danny's heart was thumping wildly within his chest. He knew only too well the graveness of his now apparent situation. He would have to rely on his friends to keep him from being shot again.

However, that didn't mean he was completely useless. Just slower.

"What's our status?" He questioned the guy next to him as he tried to reload his gun.

"We're winning right now," his comrade stated, smiling in satisfaction. "It should be over soon."

A type of relief washed over Danny, but he did not allow himself to revel in it. Despite the news, they were still in danger, and both soldiers knew it. Danny brought himself back to the present and shot out into the oblivious night of smoke and fire.

"Do you think we have enough ammo?" the guy asked.

"I hope so," Danny replied, shouting over the noise of the battle. "Think we'll get out of this alive?"

"That's questionable."

Danny did the only thing he could do: Reload his musket and fire, trying to ignore the pain his arm was giving him.

* * *

**Somewhere in the Virginian countryside**

* * *

Sam knew someone was following her. In the distance, she could barely spot a man on his horse, heading her way…

Normally, she would assume he was a traveler, but the fact that he stayed at a discreet distance from her ever since she passed the mansions was really beginning to get on her nerves.

Sam commanded for Belle to pick up speed. And confirming her suspicions, the man picked up speed too.

He wasn't stopping either. Infact, he was getting closer…

Sam and Belle ran at top speed, hoping to throw off the man. But even then, he managed to gain on them.

She looked behind her to see the guy only yards away from her. And when she looked into the guy's face, she recognized him at once.

It was Eliot Andreas, the major's son from her old town. The one that wanted to marry her. Reluctantly, she slowed down to humor him.

"Samantha!" he cried, pulling up next her and getting off of his horse. He took her hand and encased it in his. "I saw you by the mansion and wondered what you were doing and why you were outside at this time of night. So, I followed you out here. What _are _you doing?"

Sam almost recoiled from his touch, fully disgusted. If she hadn't liked him before, she _definitely _didn't like him now. So, hoping he was too dense to figure it out, she said, "I have some business in another town."

"You shouldn't worry your pretty little head with such things. They are for men to take care of," he replied with a smile. "Just focus on being my bride for now."

Sam was having an internal struggle to keep from exploding her wrath upon him. _Who does he think he is? It's MY life! _

"Perhaps I prefer knowing what goes on around me," she said coldly.

Something clicked within Eliot's mind. "Perhaps you are running _away_ from what goes around you."

"What makes you think that?"

"Oh, come on, Samantha. Something's up with you. What is it? Why are you so anxious to get away?"

Sam pulled her hand back away from his. "Why are you so anxious to know? I told you, I'm going to another town to do some business."

_You know, that can actually be considered the truth, _Sam thought. _Just a **far** away town. _

"Then you wouldn't mind if I went with you?"

Sam began panicking inside. "Actually, I do mind."

"Is that why you're running away? To get away from me?" Eliot grabbed her around the shoulders and roughly pulled her off Belle. "Is this true?"

Sam saw that the status quo had changed dramatically. She no longer had full control of the situation. She didn't know how to answer his question either.

"Perhaps," was what Sam heard herself say.

Eliot's black eyes searched her violet ones as his grip on her shoulders tightened. "You are coming back with me to my house. There, you could have almost anything you desired. Isn't that what all poor people want?" he said smugly.

Sam forgot to think. She immediately slapped his face, unable to contain her anger any longer. "How dare you ever say such a thing, you insolent jerk!" she angrily snapped at him, clenching and unclenching her fists.

Eliot stepped back, letting Sam go to hold the left side of his face in pain.

Belle noticed her mistress's discomfort around the man. The way he treated Sam like she was of lower status than him also didn't go unnoticed by the horse.

Therefore, Belle took the initiative and painfully kicked Eliot with her back legs, throwing him backwards…

…And effectively knocking him out.

Sam just stared at the place where he once was to where he was now. She then looked back at Belle with a rather shocked expression. Belle just neighed happily in reply and nudged Sam, mentally telling her to get back on.

Sam walked up next to the horse and patted Belle, smiling with smug satisfaction at the unconscious jerk on the side of the road. "Thanks," she whispered gratefully to Belle. "Now, let's get out of here before he wakes up." Sam rubbed her arms where he gripped a little too tight.

She climbed back on top of her horse and continued on with her journey. By gripping the reins tightly, she hid the slightest shake of her hands.

* * *

**On the Virginia/ North Carolina Border**

* * *

Danny nearly collapsed with relief when he saw Rebel brigades slowly retreat from the battlefield, leaving behind the soldiers that fought for the North.

_This Civil War has brought so much destruction, _Danny thought. _It will be a miracle if this country will be able to support itself once everything has settled. _

The soldier winced when someone bumped into his bad arm. He dropped his musket and gently laid his hand over the wound, trying to stop the pain and bleeding.

"Fenton?" Someone called his name. "Are you okay?"

Danny turned his head to see Private Jonathon Ridge walking towards him. "I'll live," he replied dryly to his friend.

Danny looked around. Everywhere, soldiers were helping their comrades while others were setting up tents for the night.

"Come on," Jonathon said, taking Danny's gun, relieving Danny of the extra weight. "You need to get your arm bandaged before it gets infected."

"Good idea."

* * *

**Back to Virginia Countryside**

* * *

Sam squinted, seeing a smudge on the horizon. _Smoke, _she realized.

_The thunder I thought I was hearing must have been a battle. I guess the best thing to do would be to stay away from there_…

She slowed Belle down to take a drink from the stream they had been following.

_I hope the soldiers are okay._

* * *

**Virginia/North Carolina Border**

* * *

Danny stared at his Company's commander along with three other people.

"As you know," the Commander started, "we've had to send messengers to President Lincoln in order to relay confidential information.

"This is what you've been assigned to. While I'd normally prefer to send only one soldiers, the chances of that messenger surviving to give the message is very slim. Therefore, I am sending you _four_. This is highly important information, and we can not allow it to go unnoticed by our superiors."

"I am also aware that all of you have sustained a minor injury. You must understand that we can't afford to send the few perfectly healthy soldiers we have away from the fighting."

The Commander handed them a piece of paper. "When you have memorized the message, throw it in the fire. The Rebels can not get a hold of this information, is that clear?" They nodded dutifully. "Good. And considering it is still dark out, I'd suggest you gather your supplies and leave now."

With that said, Commander Allan left the tent.

One by one, the soldiers threw their pieces of paper in the fire pit outside and went to collect the little belongings they had, the dark clouds over their heads warning them of the danger they were exposed to.

Danny waited patiently at the edge of their camp for the other messengers, letting a poorly hidden yawn escape from his mouth. Once the other three soldiers arrived, they dutifully set off on their horses.

"Ya think we'll win this war?" an African American asked the others.

"I hope so," Danny said wearily. "I don't wish for all of this to be for nothing."

"Me either," responded another soldier. "Umm…not to get off the subject, but did any of you get any supper?" They all shook their heads. "Good cause I got a can of corn in my pack and was wonderin' if you guys wouldn't mind having a late dinner."

* * *

Sometime later found Private William Johnstone stirred his corn, mouth watering at it's aroma.

The twenty year old confessed to the other three messengers, "Sometimes I can't believe any of this is happening. I mean, one day I'm talking to my fiancé, Ella, and the next I'm in the middle of a crossfire."

"I know how you feel," the other soldier, James, said. " I had everything going for me before this. I was going to take over my father's real estate business and then I had to forget all about that and leave my wife and two year old daughter behind. I...really miss them."

Danny was barely listening in on the conversation. He heard the African American, whose name was Charlie, say something. The rest nodded and turned to look at Danny.

"Who'd you leave behind?" William asked, spooning up the steaming food to everyone. A horse neighed in the background.

Danny looked away from the fire and said, "I didn't leave anyone behind, except my mother and father, and my sister Jazz."

"You didn't have a fiancé or nothing?" Charlie asked.

Danny shook his head. "After seeing the corruption that's in this country, I think I'd forgotten what true love was."

He stared up at the stars. "I can only hope that it still exists."

Little did he know, a young woman was staring up at the stars, wondering the same thing…

* * *

**YES! I FINALLY GOT IT DONE:coughs: yeah…**

**So, did you like it? It was a little depressing again, wasn't it? But hey, it revolves around a war. Wars are depressing…Anyway, I've decided to do review replies! YAY!**

* * *

**REVIEW REPLIES**

* * *

**Just Me and Myself: **_Thanks! I hope I didn't disappoint you. _

**Arein: **_Thank you! True, Danny Phantom doesn't have to be realistic, but I just like to write with realism. I don't know, I guess I'm just weird that way. (coughs) yeah…And, I would tell you the answers to all of your questions, but if I did I would ruin the plot for you! _

**Moon's Hope: **_Ah yes, it feels nice to hear from ya again. Thanks! _

**Jennifer: **…_Wow! I think that's one of the highest compliments anyone has ever given me! I hope I don't disappoint you! _

**Oceanpoweress: **_Yay! Another good review! Thanks, I really appreciate it. And I'm sorry you had to wait, what? Three months for an update? I feel so bad because of that…I hope you still are interested in this story! _

**Umi: **_YAY! Thanks for the positive feedback! _

**Snail-Sama:**_Coolio penname you've got! Anyway I DID do more and I can only hope you like it! _

**LaBOBuren: **_(smiles) Thank you! It makes me feel good to have put such an impression on you. _

**PhantomAL: **_Wow, I feel like I won the lottery or something. I've gotten so many good reviews! Thanks so much! By the way, I think it's cool that guys write stories on here too. I can deal with it. :P_

**Littlebozz: **_I'm glad you like it so much! However, I'm sure you can write just as good as me. Although, I don't know if I'm a very good role-model when it actually comes down to the writing. :P I have to go over each chapter three times before I get most of the mistakes and sentences that don't make sense corrected. Anyway, I hope you strive to become the writer locked inside of you. :D_

**Divagurl277: **_Long time no see! I guess you're right. I should listen to you more often. Especially if you're right like that 99.9 percent of the time…:P By the way, thanks for calling me a genius. _

**KelseyAlicia: **_Actually, believe this or not, I got this idea after reading this series of Civil War books by the author Lynn Austin. If you ever have time, I suggest you read them. And, as my review states, I did read your story. I really liked it! _

**Khrystiana: **_When I first wrote this, I didn't think anyone would like it, considering it was realistic. But you proved me wrong. Thanks for reviewing! _

**Tuckers-Ghostly-Girl: **_Well, actually, Sam doesn't hate her mother. She just is mad. Wouldn't you be? And yes, I'm sorry, I killed Tucker off. It was one of those whimsical ideas of mine that suddenly pop into my head at random times…Anyway, thanks for reviewing! _

**Mikaphantom: **_Thank you, and yes, it's the Civil War. :P I try to make a really good beginning chapter to hook people, but sometimes it's hard for me. Anyway, I hope I did my job right:)_

* * *

**Thank you guys so much! However, I need motivation to make the next chapter, or else this story will end up being shoved in the dark recesses of my computer. So please review and I'll be sure to make the next chappie! **

**Lightning Streak**

* * *

**Random Quote: **

"**Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup!"**

* * *

**Remember to review! **


	3. Wounded Soldier

_Disclaimer: (sniffles.) I don't own Danny Phantom or the Civil War, for that matter._

_YAY! I got reviews! Thank you all very much for the positive feedback!_

_On another note, I'm working on Living On the Edge in between typing this chapter. So, hopefully, it will be updated soon._

_I'm officially on Summer Vacation! (insert squeal of bliss)._

_But you probably don't want to hear about me, so I'll stop blabbing and let you read:_

* * *

**Desperado **

**Chapter 3: Wounded Soldier**

* * *

**Virginia Countryside: 165 miles from Maryland**

**1:00 A.M.**

* * *

Danny pulled the reins back on his horse and stopped to look across the vast Virginian plains. The stars were at their most brilliant, and the lands below them glittered with their reflection. But even in such a serene landscape, there was a sign of devastation.

Squinting his eyes, he could still see the smoke from the previous battle.

_I've lost so much because of this war. Will things ever return to way they were?_

_Will I ever be able to laugh after this? _

Meanwhile, the African American, Charlie, looked upon his younger comrade with worried eyes. Something was bothering him, that was for sure. He didn't look like the type of man to carry such a distant expression.

And so, he nudged his horse to walked beside Danny's. "Danny, what's botherin' you?" Charlie inquired.

Said soldier turned from his sightseeing to face the middle aged messenger. "A lot," Danny replied with a sigh. "Life in general seems to be what's bothering me."

"Well, there ain't much you can do about life in general." Charlie's eyes grew distant with past experience. "Life happens, and you've got to learn to let it go."

"But lately, I've just been depressed all the time because I _can't_ let stuff like that go. And I don't like being depressed," Danny admitted. "I'm used to being carefree."

"Join the club, Danny."

"I think I might," the younger soldier said with a half smile. "Remind me to bring the doughnuts for the next meeting." Charlie laughed softly. Danny looked back up at the stars, returning to his earlier state. "I just wish we would win, so that everything would go back to normal. It's been... over a year since it all started." He paused in thought. "I guess you could also say I wish I could take back everything I once had. I mean, I lost my _best friend_ in that battle."

Charlie gave Danny a sad smile. "You can't go back in time, although many of us would like to do that. You gotta remember the good things and not dwell on the bad." The African American patted Danny's shoulder and nudged his horse to the other messengers in front of them.

Danny absently stroked his horse's black mane. _Still_…_I wish people never enslaved others. Then, none of this would have happened. _He glanced back at his comrades, who were laughing about something.

_Then again, if it never happened, I would have never had the chance to meet some really awesome people._

* * *

**Virginia Countryside: 178 miles from Maryland**

* * *

Sam stifled a yawn as she sleepily dismounted from Belle. Figuring they both needed a rest, she rummaged through her bag for a blanket.

Finding one, Sam wrapped herself up in it and laid down on the ground.

Of course, it wasn't exactly comfortable. And she couldn't really say that she would be well rested afterwards. But at least it was something. Belle neighed softly and ate at the grass while her mistress stared up at the fading stars.

_It's almost fake dawn. I really need to sleep_…

But no matter how hard she tried, Sam couldn't.

_Too many things on my mind, I guess, _she thought. She sighed. "Belle?" Sam asked softly. The said horse perked one ear up, as though listening. "Am I doing the right thing?"

Belle tilted her head, and Sam took it to mean confusion. "I mean," Sam corrected, "is this_ right_? To run away like this?"

The horse considered and then neighed, as if to say, _yes_.

"But," Sam continued, thinking out loud, "what if it _isn't_ right, and being the caged wife of that idiot Eliot is?"

Belle's nose widened, and her eyes narrowed at the name. She snorted in disagreement. _Never! _

That's what everyone expects me to become," the girl confided slowly, feeling that she wouldn't get to sleep until she got the subject off her conscience. "But that's...it's just not what I want. I mean, just look at Eliot! I don't want to be stuck with someone like that!"

Belle snorted in agreement.

Sam stopped talking, silently brooding on that thought. "I just..." she sighed. "I just hope I'm doing the right thing."

By running away from home, abandoning her family, and denying all opportunity to advance up the social ladder, Sam knew she was directly rebelling against society. Very few women in her Victorian society ever dared to follow such a path. Most of them ended up ostracized or ridiculed, and Sam had grown up with full knowledge of the consequences of upsetting society's delicate balance.

Belle nuzzled against Sam's palm, earning a loving stroke in return. _It's okay,_ Belle wanted to say. _We'll figure it out_.

* * *

**Virginia Countryside: 160 Miles from Maryland**

**4:00 A.M**

* * *

Danny looked towards the horizon. It was fake dawn.

He smiled as he saw William Johnstone almost fall off his horse from lack of sleep.

"I'm being tempted by the can of corn that's about ready to fall out of Will's bag," James said, pulling up next to Danny. "How 'bout you?"

"I think I have to agree with you." Danny's stomach rumbled with hunger as he said that. "Of course, I've got some food of my own. It's just bread though…"

"Stale?"

"Yep," Danny sighed melodramatically."You know," he added to his comrade,"I have the feeling that my stomach has shrunk to the size of an olive."

"Olives sound good right now," James replied.

"Don't tempt me."

"Wouldn't dream of it!" the soldier said cheerfully.

* * *

**Virginia Countryside: 149 Miles from Maryland**

**5:20 A.M**

* * *

A gunshot sounded through the valley, instantly alerting the messengers of an enemy. An _armed _enemy.

And the fact that the bullet barely missed Danny only proved that theory.

Unfortunately, the messengers weren't exactly ready for battle.

_That's an understatement, _Danny thought as he stealthily jumped down from his horse, and He ducked behind a tree and loaded his own gun while the others followed his example.

Danny squinted and saw a squad of Confederate soldiers joining with the one soldier that had shot the bullet.

And the battle began.

Charlie, who had decided to follow Danny, cursed. "We're way outnumbered," he said grimly. The messengers barely dodged the bullets as they attempted to fire back.

They had all learned to live in the chaos of a battle field, but never before had they tried to fend off an entire army by themselves. It simply couldn't be done, and they all knew that.

Danny tore his eyes away from the Rebels just to see William collapse onto the ground, his chest bleeding heavily.

And, once again, he couldn't do anything. Just like when Tucker was shot...

He steeled himself with the memory, and fired with anger back at the enemy.

One of their horses reared when it was shot in the shoulder. The others stampeded away from the battle, trying to get to a safer place, clearly terrified.

The nothern soldiers could relate.

Danny jerked back in surprise when a shell screamed overhead, bringing its guarantee of death.

He pushed Charlie down as the shell hit the ground, exploding into hundreds of dagger-like metal pieces and bullets.

Danny winced as shards of metal dug into his shoulder blades and back, biting back a cry of pain. _T-that's...definitley going to leave a scar..._

James was lying only a few feet from where the shell hit. He never had a chance to even blink.

Debris rained down on Danny and Charlie, nearly drowning them in the clods of shredded earth and mud.

Carefully, Charlie and Danny sat back up and fired at the Confederates.

However, their health was failing fast. Their ammunition was running out.

The Rebels had the advantage.

Danny turned his head when he heard a sharp intake of breath from Charlie.

Charlie's eyes grew wide with desperation as blood poured from his wounds. His eyes rolled up and he fell to the ground, not moving.

Time was slowly stopping for Danny. He realized that at least one of those bullets flying overhead was going to hit him.

He was going to die, and he knew it.

His wound from earlier that night had reopened, making him losethe last of his concentration and his will to live.

_I'm going...to die..._

Just then, everything froze. One of the bullets whizzing overhead sounded much different. And it took Danny only a second to realize why: It was coming straight at him.

He couldn't do anything. It felt as though he were frozen, even as the bullet drove itself into his stomach with fatal repercussions.

Danny fell backwards, as if he were punched.

He laid there, stunned.

He couldn't see or hear anything anymore. The place where he'd been "punched" now felt wet and warm.

And it was then that the pain began.

An intense fire spread over his torso. It felt as though he was being ripped in two, and he was helpless to stop the pain.

The fading stars and the rising sun became extremely bright when Danny stared up at the sky, blinding him.

He tried to move his body, but to no avail.

An unseen hand twisted a knife in his stomach as his body's nerves reacted to the bullet.

He cried out in pain, and the world faded to black.

* * *

**Virginia Countryside: 178 Miles from Maryland**

**5:40 A.M**

* * *

Sam was brought out of her dreamless sleep when she vaguely heard gunshots in the distance.

_What's happening? _She untangled herself from her blanket as Belle awoke from her sleep.

Sam gazed over the countryside. It was dyed with a golden tint due to the sun, which now peeked over the hills.

She wasn't sure exactly how far away it was, but she could see the smoke_. There's a battle, small by the looks of it too. The smoke isn't hovering over a large area. _

A frightened neigh and the pounding of hooves brought Sam out of her thoughts.

Coming out from the trees, a pure black horse ran from its fears. Wide eyed, the horse reared, barely avoiding Belle.

Realizing the horse needed to be calmed, Sam ran around Belle and faced the unknown horse, slowly approaching it.

"Whoa," Sam called out, holding out her hands. "Easy, boy! _Easy_."

After a few soft reassurances and strokes, the horse calmed down, letting Sam pet his mane. "Where'd you come from?" she whispered to the horse.

But she already knew that. He smelled of gun smoke, meaning that he probably escaped from the nearby battle.

The gunshots had ceased, giving the land an eerie silence, for not even the birds dared to chirp. Sam shivered.

It made her uncomfortable, along with both of the horses.

_Maybe I should go and see if I can help anyone left behind_…_I mean, _Sam glance around, _it doesn't look like anyone even **knew **of this battle. We're literally in the middle of nowhere._

She mounted Belle, but then turned her head and frowned at the other horse. _I'm not sure about him. Will he just follow us or what? _

The black horse stared at her for a second before swishing his tail, as if agreeing. He moved next to Belle and nudged Sam's arm with his nose.

Sam raised an eyebrow at the horse, and commanded Belle to run towards the smoke.

The other horse followed.

* * *

**Virginia Countryside: 149 Miles from Maryland**

**6:30 A.M**

* * *

Sam's stomach lurched as she got closer to her destination. Even though the sun had cast hauntingly beautiful hues of red while it rose in the sky, it gave light to the very thing Sam was afraid of.

She could finally see the aftermath of the fight. And it wasn't pretty.

Belle stepped uneasily on the torn up ground. The mysterious other horse slowly made its way in front them and weaved through the bodies.

Sam nearly felt tears come to her eyes as she looked at the sight before her.

It was obvious they were soldiers for the North, judging from their uniforms. It was also obvious that the four bodies she counted had been outnumbered.

She knelt down beside one bloodied soldier and checked for a pulse.

None. A small wave of tears rose from within her, and Sam closed her eyes in sadness.

It was such a waste of life.

Despite her earlier assumptions that all of the soldiers were dead though, she heard a moan of pain. Surprised, Sam looked up and saw the black horse nudging a certain soldier.

Hopeful that at least one of them was still alive, she frantically scrambled over to where he was lying, careful of where she stepped.

She instantly dropped down by his side and checked his pulse, finding a very weak reply.

It wasn't looking good for this soldier, that much Sam could tell. His ragged breathing only helped to prove her conclusion.

She ripped a piece of cloth from the hem of her skirt and wiped away some of the dirt and blood on his face.

The soldier couldn't have been more than twenty-five years old, she decided.

Sam retrieved the flask of water she had carried with her and poured some onto another small piece of cloth. She laid it very carefully on his stomach wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

_Thank God I volunteered at the doctor's office two years back. _

"Belle?" the said horse looked up to see her master kneeling beside one of the soldiers. "Come here," Sam said in a soft tone.

As Belle made her way over to her owner, Sam's eyes focused on the blanket.

_I guess that will have to do for now. _

Sam stood up and pulled the blanket out of her bag. Sighing, she began tearing strips.

_Okay. I know I can't do much with only water and some makeshift bandages. I need herbs or something along those lines. _

_So, let's see: Sage grows just about anywhere, so I could probably find some along the river five miles back. And if I remember, Gensing exists somewhere by lavender flowers. If I could crush their leaves and heat some water up, I'm positive I could make that one paste the doctor used to put on cuts. _

Sam was, once again, brought out of her thoughts when the soldier cried out in pain. A knife twisted itself in her heart at the pitiful sound.

Sam wiped away another escaped tear, not used to being exposed to such brutality. Yet knowing she had to stop the bleeding, she tore open the top part of his uniform to bandage his wounds.

Now, had it been under any other circumstances, Sam would have blushed. After all, this was a _guy..._

But now wasn't the time to act like that.

Sam began to wind the cloth around the man's arm, noticing it was bleeding the heaviest.

Surprisingly, it seemed as though the soldier's stomach wound had crusted from heat, which slowed the bleeding to a lazy drip.

However, Sam still didn't have the type of education or the tools to heal him.

But that didn't mean Sam wasn't determined. She only worked harder.

_War is such a waste of life. I'll be damnned if I let this soldier die._

* * *

As the darkness slowly disappeared, Danny felt pain. _Extreme_ pain. Even in his half delirious state, he knew enough about what was happening to him.

If only he could just return to that comforting darkness, the one that let him slip away from his antagonizing wounds.

Something wasn't letting him, though. Or rather, _someone. _

His forced himself out of the looming darkness. Just for now.

For now, he wanted to see who that someone was.

His eyelids opened ever so slightly.

And he saw tear brimmed violet eyes staring back at him.

* * *

**Wow…this has to be the longest chapter I've ever written…**

**I'm not exactly happy with it. I pictured this to be more…I dunno, detailed. Or maybe more heartfelt. I'm not exactly sure what I wanted…But the one thing I did like was that they finally met. And not in a hospital either. **

**On a brighter note, I'm happy that it didn't take four months to update! That's definitely a good start. I'm getting better at beating the evil writer's block. **

**Lightning Streak**

* * *

**THANK YOU TO:**

* * *

**Kyuubi no Tai: **_Thanks for reviewing! And I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long!_

**Greywolf291:**_ Thank you! Your review helped me type faster. _

**Glory anger 5: **_I updated! (finally) And thank you for reviewing!_

**Sailor Attitude: **_Wow, thanks for the compliment! _

**Naturesunicorn: **_Thank you for the positive feedback and long review! It made me type all the more faster! _

**Jtiger: **_It's okay, you don't sound pushy. It's good to know that you like this story. Thanks!_

**KelseyAlicia: **_Normally, I think I skip out on details, so it made me happy when you said that! I hope you liked this chapter!_

**Kris Redscale: **_You are right, taking the horse would be bad. But if you're trekking all the way to Maryland, you would almost need a horse. Still, Sam didn't want to leave her mother totally broke. So she left the money. I hope that answers your question! _

**Spongebobphantom: **_Thank you. I hope you review again!_

**AngelofLight: **_I think this chapter answered your question. And thank you for reviewing! _

**Wishing for Rain: **_Originally, I posted this story as fast as I could so then no one would take my idea. Which was why I didn't update it for a while. But, anyway, I think I'm doing better with updating. I hope you liked this chapter!_

**Divagurl277: **_Thanks! But I think we all know that you're the genius:P _

**Moon's Hope: **_Once again, you never fail to leave me a review. Thank you very much! _

**Water-Wolf-and-Fire-Feline: **_(Smiles) Thank you! I hope you also enjoy this chapter too!_

**Arein: **_I'm positive this chapter answers your question about when Danny and Sam were going to meet. :P Thanks again for reviewing!_

**Faith's Melody: **_I think it's really funny that I'm writing AU stories. I used to think that they were stupid and stuff. Now I can't get enough of them! And I'd like to thank you because I first thought that no one would really like this story because it was AU. Well, you proved me wrong! Thank you again!_

* * *

**Random Quote: **

**Eagles may soar, but weasels can't get sucked into jet engines.**


	4. Questions

Disclaimer: Sadly, I will admit that I don't own DP.

(Does a happy dance.) WEEEE! Reviews! They make me so happy! Thank you thank you!

And so, in celebration, this very happy authoress shall give you:

* * *

**Desperado **

**Chapter 4: Questions**

* * *

**Virginia Countryside: 149 Miles from Maryland **

**June 9, 1862**

**6:45 A.M**

* * *

Sam stared in shock as the soldier's bright blue eyes focused on her.

And for a second, she lost herself in those eyes.

But all too soon, he snapped his eyes shut and hissed in pain, grimacing. As concerned as she was though, Sam couldn't do anything. She'd done everything she could.

She gently placed the back of her hand on his forehead. He still had a high fever, she realized as she brushed the soldier's long bangs out of his face.

_I gonna have to keep a close eye on his fever to make sure it doesn't get worse. _

The soldier relaxed at her touch, his pangs subsiding into a more bearable throb for the moment.

And for the first time, he spoke to her. His bloodless lips lifted into an joking smile.

"You're so beautiful," his hoarse voice whispered in awe. "...Have I died and gone to Heaven?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. That wasn't _quite_ what Sam had been expecting him to say. Even the horses, who had been grazing a little ways from the battlefield, looked up. Their ears flicked forward, as though listening.

Sam replied indignantly, "You're not dead yet." She brought a hand to her cheek, feeling the burning sensation of a pink-tinged blush.

_He must be delirious from that fever. _

"Then it seems I mistook you for an angel," the soldier said lightly.

_Well, I guess that proves my suspicions. He **is** delirious. _

The lightness in his voice, however, disappeared as he moaned in agony once again. "D-damn," he managed to choke out, biting back a whimper. "T-this..._h-hurts-s_..." His good arm moved to cover his stomach wound, and the soldier curled in on himself, desperate to relieve the pain that relentlessly plagued him.

He drifted in between consciousness and unconsciousness as his face contorted with pain, a thin film of sweat beading from his forehead. The soldier drew in rugged breaths, and his entire body shuddered with the effort.

And yet, Sam knew she couldn't do anything to help, except maybe hold his hand for comfort. She could only watch as he laid there, slowly dying.

_I'm sorry...I...I can't do anything else for you..._

Finally, Danny gave way to unconsciousness with one last gasp, his body relaxing into a dead weight.

By then, the woman got a grip on her emotions and transformed helplessness into a hardened resolve. _I **will** help him. _

_I need to find those herbs if I'm going to make that salve to put on his wounds, though.. _

She glanced at the horses. _I'm sure he'd be okay if I left him for only a little bit. After all, he's survived this far...And with Belle, I could be back within fifteen minutes. _

_This would have been **so** much easier if we were at the hospital. _

Reflecting on that last thought, Sam brought Belle out of her grazing and mounted the mare. The other horse merely walked over to the soldier and dutifully took post there, as though standing guard.

Sam stared at the horse with an intense gaze. _Interesting_…_Could it be possible that this guy is his owner?_

But it was a trite observation, and she had more important things to worry about. She and Belle turned around, a determined expression settling over her features. _Okay, now if I was following a river twenty miles back, and it veered off to Northwest, not to mention the valley we're in now, then the river should be roughly a half mile from here, due west. _

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she nudged Belle forward into a run, weaving through the trees of the valley…

She raced through the Virginian countryside like the devil was on her heels, and yet she kept a close eye out for signs of a river. Her biggest clue was the increase in vegetation just ahead of her, for it was a sure sign of a trek worth while.

She nudged Belle in a command to slow down to a canter as Sam scanned the area with a warrior's prescision.

_Where there's plants, there's a watersource..._

After what seemed like only a few minutes of searching, Sam swore she could hear the sound of running water.

Sam looked to her right and saw the river, sparkling in all its glory. The rising sun reflected its colors on the surface, creating almost a surreal effect.

In any case, it gave the girl hope.

She slid off Belle and walked over to the muddy bank, her worn combat boots sinking into the dirt. Taking her nearly empty canteen of water from her bag, she dunked it into the river and filled it up. Sam looked through the crystal clear water to see small fish scuttling away from her hands as she concentrated on her task.

_Okay, so I need to find sage, ginseng, and lavender. I really hope they grow around this river, or…_

_...Or he'll die…_

* * *

Sam kneeled down on the river bank, careful of poison ivy, and sorted through the vegetation. She'd managed to locate the ginseng and lavender. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find the sage.

Sighing, Sam stood back up, wiping dirt from her purple dress. _I guess I could **try** to make the salve without the sage…_

_I think I'm going to have to. _

Belle nudged Sam's shoulder and earned a loving stroke in return. "I suppose we should go back." Belle swished her blacktail in agreement. Sam smiled slightly at the mare's reaction and led the way out of the forest, weaving through the colorful bushes and flowers.

After mounting her horse, Sam rode towards their self-proclaimed camp, content with her findings.

* * *

Sam slid off Belle once more and glided towards the rugged campsite with her bag in one hand, carefully avoiding the small pieces of metal that stuck up from the ground. Probably from a bombshell, Sam guessed.

She smiled happily however, when she saw the soldier sleeping, his chest rising and falling in a remotely normal pattern.

_Umm…I guess I'd better start making that salve. _

And it was then Sam realized she needed a cooking pot and matches for a fire…

Sighing she got an idea. It wasn't a very pleasant one, but it was the only idea she had.

Sam looked at the three corpses that surround the battlefield and shuddered.

_No matter how disgusting this is, they have supplies in their pack. And since it's not like they're going to be using them anytime soon, **I **might as well use them. _

She bent down next to one dead soldier (he was African American, she observed), and carefully removed the knapsack from his shoulder. She tried not to gag, really she did, but as blood coated the tips of her fingers, she found gagging hard not to do.

Sam's nose scrunched up in disgust while her eyes portrayed sadness.

_It's really a pity that **any** of this happened anyway…_

Her tear brimmed eyes scanned the area. Over by a half blown apart tree was another dead soldier, half buried in the broken ground, metals pieces sticking out of his back. Sam turned away, not being able to look at the soldier for long.

Not too far from the tree was a cast aside knapsack. Thankful it wasn't attached to anyone, Sam carefully made her way over to the bag.

Within it was small pot and a small supply of canned corn. Sam smiled slightly at her find.

* * *

**8:30 A.M**

* * *

Danny became distantly aware of something cooking. It smelled like…herbs, perhaps? He wasn't quite sure. No matter, it was a definite improvement from the smell of blood.

He opened his eyes, ignoring the coursing pain, and saw the girl from before sitting next to a fire. Apparently, she was stirring…what ever she was making…

It was then that Danny finally got a good look at his rescuer. Aside from the hazy outline he saw of her earlier, he had no idea what she looked like.

After only a glance, he could see that she was beautiful. Perhaps she wasn't the most gorgeous girl out there, but something was…different about her, he could tell.

Her outfit told of her journey, being worn and slightly caked with dirt. But he could still make out the bold color of purple, which just so happened to match her eyes.

Danny's own eyes widened a fraction when the woman looked over his way.

Her attention became fully focused. "Hey," she said softly, "How're you feeling?"

Danny attempted a grin, fighting down a wave of pain that spread from his stomach throughout his torso. "I've felt better," he said weakly.

"I'm making something that we can put on your wounds to help them heal. It's a bit strong of a smell, so try not to breathe it in." Sam returned to stirring the salve, disregarding her tearing eyes due to the balm's omitting steam.

"Yeah. It is pretty strong," Danny replied, sniffing the air. Suddenly, a strange, sickening feeling overcame him, like a calm before the storm. His eyes widened a fraction at the feeling, for he suddenly knew what was coming. All of his injuries reminded him of their presence at the same time.

And in that instant, pain overwhelmed him.

Inconceivable pangs tore their way throughout his entire body, and his sufferings doubled with their fatal countenance. He hissed in pain as his chest was lit with the fiery agony, thousands of daggers madly slashing and tearing at his lungs.

He closed his eyes tightly with a grimace, and waited for the spasms to pass, praying that he wouldn't die.

_P-please...make this s-stop...! _

When the pains slowly subsided, relief washed over him, despite how much the situation worried him. After all, he wasn't getting any better...

Danny looked back at the girl and noticed she was avoiding his gaze, her billiant eyes downcast.

"I'm sorry this is taking so long." She sadly gestured towards the pot. "It should be done soon."

"T-thanks..." Danny adjusted his position so he could see his rescuer better, figuring the pain couldn't get any worse. "I'm afraid I don't know your name... ?"

Sam lifted the cooking pot off the fire and set it aside to cool. "My name is Sam," she responded. The girl stared at the soldier in curiosity. "And you are?"

"Daniel, but everyone calls me Danny." The soldier's eyes became half-lidded with fatigue.

_It's so hard...to stay awake..._

"Danny," Sam said, testing the name on her lips. She smiled. "I'm glad I found you when I did…or…" Her smile faded as she didn't finish her sentence.

"I'm glad you found me too." Danny glanced out of the corner of his eyes to see his horse grazing contently away from the remains of the battlefield with another horse, which he assumed belonged to Sam. But what did he know? His brain was befuddled from his high fever anyway.

He whistled, trying to catch his horse's attention. The black stallion's posture straightened and happily trotted towards its master.

Danny smiled gently as the horse nudged his hand.

"So," Sam said, raising an eyebrow, "he _is _your horse…"

Danny winced a bit as his wound throbbed intensely from his movements. "Yep," he said through gritted teeth. He glanced down at his bad arm and wished he hadn't.

He tried to distract himself. "I should probably thank you for finding Phantom too."

"Actually," Sam admitted, "Phantom, you said? found me. Belle and I were on our way down here and we pretty much had a run in with your horse."

"Belle?" Danny inquired.

"My horse." She gestured over at the brown horse standing next to Phantom.

Danny was about to reply when the pain came back, only this time with a vengeance. He cried out, willing himself not to scream. A paroxysm of torment clawed at his mind, and he nearly blacked out.

Through his blurred vision, he saw Sam frantically set the cooking pot and rough strips of cloth beside him.

"I think the herbs have cooled down enough," she said hurriedly. "It should hopefully help to numb your wounds."

Danny relaxed a little at the prospect of a numb stomach and arm. In fact, it sounded like bliss.

Sam helped him sit up, and then she began to gently rip the bandages off of him, making Danny wince slightly.

It also made him blush. While she pulled off the makeshift bandages, her fingertips lightly touched his bare stomach. It was the closest contact he'd ever had with a girl.

And if he had looked at Sam, he would have seen a blush on her face too.

"Well," Sam stated, "you're not bleeding to death. That's definitely a good sign."

Danny just raised an eyebrow as Sam spread the herbs over his wounds.

Almost immediately, a cold feeling erupted around his abdomen. The medicine bit ever so slightly into his cuts, however.

And then, the pain slowly subsided into a more bearable throb.

…Maybe he wasn't going to die…

And for the first time since the joined the war, Danny felt hopeful.

"Thanks," he said gratefully, watching Sam's reaction.

She blushed slightly. "I just wish I could do more. You're still in bad shape, and we have to get to a hospital before your wounds get worse."

"Wow," Danny said dryly. "Thanks for the encouragement."

A small shock of pain ran down his spine.

The little support he had for his upper body gave way. In a flash, Sam was there, holding him up.

He leaned into her shoulder, exhausted.

…And then he realized what kind of position they were in.

Slowly, he moved to sit away from her, trying to escape from the situation. Sam just turned her head away and focused on the horses.

"So," Danny said, striking up conversation once again. "Where's everyone else?"

"…Everyone else?" Sam asked. What was he thinking? They were the only ones around…_Unless he's thinking about-_

"The other soldiers?" Danny pressed on. He looked around…

And it hit him like a ton of bricks.

For the first time since he'd woken up, Danny remembered the minutes before he was shot, his fever allowing him that much.

_They…died…_

He let his droopy bangs cover his eyes as his head dropped. _Why?_

Sam inched a little bit closer to Danny and gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked, unsure of what to say.

Through his raven bangs, Danny glanced at her. "I…just don't know what to think anymore."

_God...Why did you let them die! _he screamed on the inside as he glanced down at his arm wound. _Why...why did you let me live? _

A tense silence settled over the two.

Finally someone said something. "I wish…" Sam started slowly, "I wish the other soldiers could have lived too…No one deserves to die like that."

Danny winced slightly, a painful throb reminding him of the battle. "And no one deserves to be sold," he said firmly, reminding Sam of the reason why he fought.

"Why is it that humanity is so fickle like this? Selling our own kind and then destroying those who actually fight _for_ good ethics?" Sam asked, her tears coming back.

"If I knew, I would tell you," Danny replied honestly, his heart feeling heavy. He brushed his bangs out of his eyes.

Sam averted her gaze from the ground to Danny's face as he gritted his teeth. Probably in pain, she guessed.

"We need to figure out a way to get you to a hospital," She said, changing the subject. She _really _wanted to get away from the depressing topic. It was making _her_ depressed too."And it's clear to me that you're not going to be able to handle riding a horse…"

"_Well, _you could always _tie_ me to Phantom."

"…Tie you?"

"Yeah. Back before this battle, we'd tie hurt soldiers onto their horse when they needed to be taken to a hospital. It was faster that way."

"Do you think you could handle that?"

Danny smiled. "If I couldn't, I wouldn't be much of a soldier, would I?"

Sam rolled her eyes and laughed slightly. "Well then, no worries."

The soldier cocked his head just a little bit. Sam's laugh…It was kind of nice to listen to.

"So, should we head out?" he asked. Danny couldn't help but be a little anxious. After all, they _were_ racing against the clock… _And my life is fair game to either side. _He shook himself out of that train of thought.

"Yeah. That would probably be best." Sam stood up and dusted the grass off of her dress. "I'll get the stuff ready and then I'll come back to help you up."

Danny nodded and Sam walked away, picking up the cans of corn, the cooking pot, and the remains of her blanket (the large blanket, once being twice her height, now merely reached her head as she folded it.) She then stuffed them into Belle and Phantom's bags, glad that Phantom had so many extra pockets on his leather saddle.

When everything had been put away, Sam returned to Danny's side.

"You ready?" She asked. The soldier nodded, bracing himself for the pain it would take to get him standing. Danny called over Phantom, who dutifully trodded to his master.

Sam kneeled down beside the soldier and lifted his left arm over her shoulder. Letting him lean into her, they both slowly stood.

Danny ground his teeth as his stomach was set on fire. He was _really_ looking forward to that hospital right about then…

_Wow, _he thought. _I never thought I'd ever think that…I must be desperate._

Realizing he wouldn't be able to mount Phantom without doing it, Danny climbed onto the saddle in one fast motion.

And just as soon as he got on, waves of pain coursed through his enough body, making him cry out and nearly bringing him to tears.

To him, it felt as though his heart was being torn apart, and he was helpless to stop it. A thin film of sweat streamed from his skin as he curled in on himself and grit his teeth, desperate to relieve the pain.

Sam bit her lip, knowing she couldn't help. Her posture became tense as tears came to her own eyes. She looked at Danny through her blurry vision and noticed that he had relaxed somewhat, the pain retreating for the time being.

She and Danny both sighed in relief. "Are you going to be okay?" Sam inquired.

Danny barely nodded, too exhausted to put forth much energy.

After fastening him to Phantom, Sam mounted Belle and, slowly, they set off.

* * *

**Virginia Countryside: 126 Miles from Maryland**

**5:00 P.M**

* * *

Danny gazed distractedly at his surroundings. Lucky for him, his throbbing stomach and right arm had lost most of its sting, due to medicine Sam had given him.

However, something else was bothering him.

And for some reason, he couldn't quite place _what _was bothering him…

Phantom neighed as Danny stroked his silky mane.

_Maybe I'm just being paranoid_…

* * *

Meanwhile, Sam stared at the soldier beside her. Something was bothering him, she could tell…

She looked out at the valley. Nope, nothing looked out of the ordinary.

Maybe it was his wounds…

Maybe Danny was thinking about his comrades?

Or perhaps-

Sam rolled her eyes at herself. _Why am I thinking this? He's got the right to have his own thoughts. _

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but quickly turned her head when their eyes met.

It wasn't as though she thought he was cute, mind you. It was just because his gaze was unnerving.

Sam scoffed at her own pitiful excuse.

She looked ahead at the forest of trees, switching to another train of thought.

_He has really well built muscles..._

Sam sighed at her own patheticness.

_I'm hopeless._

* * *

Danny, on the other hand, could have sworn he saw something move inbetween a few of the trees.

And it had a very human-like silohouette...

_Maybe I'm **not **paranoid._

He carefully opened one of the saddlebags to find that his gun and the coat of his uniform were stashed there. Danny sighed, knowing he at least had some sort of protection.

He played with the sleeve of his white button-up shirt, hoping he was just seeing things.

However, something was glinting on the other side of a nearby hill.

Danny squinted. It was a weapon. A gun to be exact.

And that would mean...

Apprehension built within him. If there were Confederate soldiers out there, then he and Sam were in definite trouble…

"Sam, stop," he commanded, surverying the area.

Raising an eyebrow, Sam stopped Belle, clearly wanting to know why.

Danny glanced around him, his heart beat quickening.

_I'm just paranoid, _he kept thinking. _There's nothing out there that could possibly-_

A gun shot sounded through the air.

* * *

…**.I'm done! Of course, I think I just seriously butchered any hope for this story, but that's for you to decide. **

**So, what did you think? Did ya like it? Is there something missing you think should be there? Any constructive critisism anyone would like to give me? **

**To continue this story? Or to not continue this story….That is the question….**

**Lightning Streak**


	5. Confederate Conspiracy

**Disclaimer: Must I do this every chapter? …Fine, I don't own DP. **

**I know I say this every chapter, but I've got to say it again: REVIEWS! YAY! I feel loved! I shall read around the site a lot this month and review in order to pay you guys back!

* * *

**

AN OVERVIEW OF DESPERADO:

During the Civil War, 19 year old Samantha Manson gets an letter from a friend asking her to join the hospital team as a nurse for the Northern cause. She instantly agrees to it, for ever since the war had started, she had felt helpless. And it didn't exactly help that she was being pushed into an arranged marriage to someone of wealthy status back at home. For her, this was an opportunity of a lifetime!

Not everyone shares that view though, and she begins the journey of a lifetime when she runs away one night. For during her trek to Maryland, Sam accidentally stumbles upon the sole survivor of a small battle: Private Daniel Fenton. As she attempts to keep him alive until they can reach a hospital, they bond and easily become good friends.

However, their journey to Maryland proves to be dangerous, for the enemy lurks all around them….

_Danny glanced around him, his heart beat quickening._

_**I'm just paranoid, **he kept thinking. **There's nothing out there that could possibly-**_

_A gun shot sounded through the air._

**

* * *

**

**Desperado**

**Chapter 5: Confederate Conspiracy**

**Virginia Countryside: 126 Miles from Maryland**

**5:15 P.M

* * *

**

Danny apprehensively searched the woods area with a warrior's precision, desperately trying to figure out from which direction a bullet could be shot, and where the person who shot it was. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as a tense answer met his ears in the form of pure silence.

_Where did that come from? And **who** shot it? _

But figuring out the answers to his questions was proving to be impossible. Thanks to that _lovely_ bullet ever so kindly wedged in his spine, all of his energy was going towards healing, literally draining whatever strength he had to begin with.

His vision was blurry along with everything else, and that made all of his surroundings blend together in waves. It seemed to Danny that someone up in Heaven _really_ hated him…

"D-Danny?" Sam's slightly shaking voice found its way to his ears. "We're not alone, _are_ we?"

"No," he whispered back, his voice tense with unease.

Phantom pranced nervously, sensing his master's discomfort. Obviously something was wrong. Belle and Phantom exchanged a glance of anticipation, for somehow, they knew of what was coming.

Another gun shot sounded through the air at that time, and the soldier sprang into action.

"We need to get out of here," Danny hurriedly said the instant he saw the smoke from someone's gun peaking out from the trees just ahead of them.

Adrenaline began to course through his veins as his heart thumped madly against his ribs.

They had to get away…

He commanded Phantom to run in the other direction and Phantom obliged instantly. "Follow me!" the soldier commanded, an urgent tone in his voice. The grass of the land that swished in the breeze was trampled by an uncaring Danny and Phantom, Sam and Belle following.

Sam instantly trailed after him, worry building up in her heart. Normally, she had a tight grip on such emotions, but….

_…What's happening! _Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to figure out who had fired at them.

Realization then hit Sam full force at that instant, her eyes dilating in panic.

And a sense of dread filled her.

Meanwhile, that same feeling was pounding itself into Danny's mind. The rough terrain Phantom galloped on was becoming too much for Danny, forcing him to hunch over in barely suppressed pain.

Danny's entire body was jarred with every step Phantom took, ripping open the wound on his stomach with a sharp pain. And as his vision blurred momentarily, he almost, _almost_, wished he was dead.

_I **hate** this…_

He gritted his teeth and started a mental run down of what was happening, trying to block out his body's cries, which was proving to be hard to do.

Fact A: Someone was following them.

Fact B: They were close, judging by their silhouettes.

Fact C: They were Confederate soldiers.

The gray coats of those riding on horses shined through the trees. Danny panicked at the sight, his fear coming true.

_Not good…not good! _

And it was then he realized he had no options. He could shoot at the Confederates, but he and Sam were outnumbered.

And in plus, that action would put Sam in danger too, and he wouldn't have that.

He could stop and switch directions (Sam following), but chances were the soldiers had them surrounded.

And the only option that left them…was to run like heck and hope they weren't caught.…

_I just **love** my life_, Danny concluded sarcastically.

_I must still be Karma's favorite…_

The wind whipped his black hair into his eyes as he craned his neck and looked back at Sam to see how she was doing. Unfortunately, She and Belle were lagging behind, the distance widening foot by foot.

The feeling of control slipping through his fingers came to mind as he assessed their situation.

Danny was forced to realize that they had _another_ major disadvantage. Phantom was a horse trained for races and war. Belle probably was just a farm horse, meant for slower activities.

In other words, speed was their only advantage, and it seemed Lady Luck wasn't on their side.

Sam cast a desperate glance at Danny, her eyes conveying her concern.

_I don't know if we're gonna get out of this one…_

Another gun shot sounded, and this time, the bullet hit far too near for the soldier's comfort, for he barely managed to escape its path.

Danny instantly reverted his attention back to where he was going, and switched directions with a hard jerk. Phantom snorted with indignity before obeying his master, all the while avoiding various clusters of tall trees.

Sadly though, the roar of pounding hooves forced Danny to realize that they actually _were _surrounded.

Confederate soldiers weaved in and out of the trees like ghosts, and they gained the upper hand as their sleek horses pulled ahead of Danny and Sam's.

The Yankee soldier felt his heart stop completely.

Their only way to escape had been cut off.

Confederate soldiers appeared out in front of them, about twenty feet away. Their abrupt appearance forced Danny to pull up sharply on Phantom's reins, an action that caused both pain and sent green grass soaring into the air. The sleek horse whimpered and Danny fought down a whimper of his own.

"Stay where you are!" A soldier shouted to them, his rifle pointed directly at them. A squad of his comrades repeated their sergeant's actions, waiting for a command to shoot.

Danny gulped as he stared ahead of him, uncertain how to act. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Sam inching towards him and Phantom. And inwardly, he couldn't help but panic.

_I have a feeling that this is **not **gonna go over well…_

The commander of the Confederate squad rode up to Sam and Danny, his rifle still trained upon them with a deadly accuracy. "State why you are trespassing on Confederate camps!" His violet eyes flashed with distrust and authority as the blonde haired man demanded an answer.

After a pregnant pause, Sam reluctantly spoke up, "I…we, uh…We're heading for Maryland."

"Through the countryside?" the man inquired skeptically.

"We like the scenic route," Danny improvised coolly, his overworked heart racing despite his outward appearance.

_You know, I'm surprised I haven't had a heart attack yet…I probably have high blood pressure, though. _

"I don't believe you," the commander of the squad stated simply, raising his gun to point right at Danny's chest. "Who are you?"

"Just people passing through! I'm Danny; she's Sam," the soldier replied, feeling more and more like a caged animal as time flew by. And, to make matters worse, Sam's medicine was wearing off, leaving Danny to deal with his increasing pain.

He bit back an agonized moan as his abused stomach began doing the waltz in the confines of his rib cage.

_God, I don't know how much longer I can keep this up…_

Vaguely, Danny heard the violet eyed man give orders to his men in his deep, nasally voice. "Check their bags, make sure they're not a threat to us."

The northern soldier glanced out of the corner of his eye to spot the ever increasingly uncomfortable Sam. As much as he would have liked to, he couldn't offer her any comfort.

Actually, he was having trouble just trying to focus in her image anyway.

But what happened next proved to be an even bigger blur.

_Please don't let them find anything…_

Danny honestly thought he and Sam didn't have much evidence that proved he was a soldier for the North. After all, he wasn't the only man around who carried a musket, and its expected of everyone who was traveling to have supplies with them in case someone got hurt or sick…

But not everyone had a uniform.

And imagine the morbid fascination that filled Danny as he watched a Confederate soldier pull from out of Phantom's bag a torn and ripped jacket of navy blue.

Danny's eyes widened a fraction, his heart completely stopping with shell-shocked panic. It was by _far_ one of the most terrifying moments of his life, for he realized that he had just not only put his _own_ life on the line, but Sam's also.

He knew they were caught.

Phantom backed up a few steps, becoming just as uneasy as his master was.

Danny had a feeling that Sam felt the same panic too. But he just couldn't tear his eyes away from the commander as his jacket was shown to him in obvious distain.

A chill slithered down his spine as the commander looked up at him, a cruel smile twisting the man's features. He put his finger on the trigger of his rifle, aiming it at Danny.

And it was then Danny knew what was coming. It was inevitable, really: he couldn't even try to dodge if he _wanted _to. It wouldn't matter; he'd still be shot.

He was bound and chained into the surrealism of his fears, and there was no way out. Danny gulped as his heart launched into his throat.

_…Oh, God…_

"Hello, Danny; I'm Dash Baxter. Nice to meet you." And with that smug statement, the commander pulled the trigger of his rifle, and sent a bullet shearing through the air.

From then on, all Danny could remember was falling off of his horse, the impact of the bullet to his side becoming too much for him to take.

He collapsed on the ground and raised a thick cloud of red dirt around him, for he was unable to fight against his own reactions.

That same feeling from before came to mind, like he had been punched and he couldn't catch his breath. He tried to draw a breath in a long, painful gasp, but to no avail.

Danny felt his entire body shake slightly during the time he began losing consciousness. His eyes dilated, becoming unfocused as the overly bright rays from the sun filled his vision, and the agony from his wounds became too much to handle.

_I…c-can't breathe…it …hurts…! _

His rapidly beating heart began slowing down, much like the time that surrounded him.

……_Can't _……_breathe… _

Vaguely, he heard Sam scream his name, the terrifyingly distant sound echoing in his ears.

And as Danny's sight misted over in a cloudy blur, he managed to hear a short cry of pain that tore through the air, and a sickening thud.

_Sam…Oh…G-God…! _

_P-please…n-no! …**Sam**…! _

His mind became overwhelmed by the shadowed twilight, and his body relaxed into the dirt ground.

_…Sam…!

* * *

_

Yay! Another chapter done! Once again, I'm so sorry that I almost took a YEAR to get this chapter out. I guess you could say I feel pathetic right now….(sighs.)

But I think part of the reason that updating took so long was because I'm very insecure about this story. I mean, you gotta admit; I really went out on a limb in this plot. It was one of the first Alternate Universes in the Danny Phantom category, and Danny isn't even a ghost!

I've also found out a few plot holes that need to be filled, and I even went back into earlier chapters and rewrote a few scenes. (don't worry, you don't have to go back and read it to understand anything later in the story. As a matter of fact, the revision was merely about putting in more detail…)

And so, to help me along with updating faster, I'm asking that you please PLEASE answer these questions:

**1. I know that Sam is OOC, and I really want to fix that. Does anyone have any suggestions? **

**2. Have I created too many new characters in this story?**

**3. Is the plot too predictable? **

**4. Do the sentences have a good flow to them, or should I work harder on varying their structures? **

Those are mainly the things that I need help with, and I really would appreciate some constructive critisism!

**However, on that note: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF YOUR REVIEWS IN THE PAST FEW MONTHS! **You guys have seriously made writing this story worthwhile and fun, and I hope that this chapter lived up to any expectations you might have. You all make me feel loved!

Lightning Streak

Please review! I love reviews! They inspire me to write more!


	6. Prisoner of War

Disclaimer: …I do not own DP, or the Civil War. (but then, who really _owns_ a war?)…

Wow, I actually updated and it didn't take me a year! ….It's a miracle! However, this chapter is sort of a filler chapter…and sadly, I'm horrible at filler chapters….

* * *

**Desperado**

**Chapter 6: Prisoner of War

* * *

**

**Virginia Countryside: 126 Miles from Maryland**

**Confederate Camp of Company 12**

**7:00 P.M

* * *

**

_Ugh…my head **hurts**…_

Slowly, Sam regained consciousness as the misty darkness faded into light, a splitting headache almost making her wish she was still asleep.

Almost.

The memories from before immediately rushed back to her, and she found herself fully awake with eyes widening to the size of dinner platters. Sam nearly even forgot her headache as she lifted her head from the cot she was lying on while she tried to figure out where she was.

_…What in the world…! Where am I!_

As far as she could tell, the room just looked to be like an old office, a desk and filing cabinet set against the wall. Cautiously, Sam sat up, cradling her head as her vision swam and the world tilted before her.

_That guy who knocked me out really did a number on me._

_Ugh, I really hate that guy…_

With a sluggish air, Sam attempted to stand up from the cot, and found herself upon shaky feet. She forced herself to try and ignore her body's cries, for she knew there was something much more important.

_Danny! Oh my God, Danny! What happened to him? Is he okay? Is he even…alive?_

The memories before she blacked out replayed in her mind, and it left Sam almost in a state of panic.

_He was bleeding so badly…and with two wounds already, that last one could have been fatal…_

A feeling of dread overwhelmed the girl as she reran through what happened.

To her, it was like being the deer in the way of a great train's headlight. When she heard the gunshot and saw Danny fall from his horse, she couldn't move; couldn't look away.

Seeing someone whom she cared for just fall and writhe in pain did _not_ sit well with her, and the feeling of unease and angered disbelief swirling in her stomach only proved that.

It _wasn't_ a pleasant feeling in any case….Helplessness; shock….Even guilt ate at her, for maybe she could have done something to protect him.

Maybe she could have prevented it…

But no; Sam remembered clearly just how her undeniable hardheadedness got her into trouble. All she had wanted to do was help…And anyone who knew Sam could have rested assured that she at _least_ would try something, _anything,_ to help Danny...

**_When she finally snapped out of her horrified stupor, she instantly jumped off Belle and rushed towards her friend. _**

**_"Danny!" Sam had screamed in terror, more afraid for him than she was for her own self. _**

All of her hard work to keep the soldier alive had literally been for nothing at that point. She wanted so desperately to say for once that she had helped someone live.

And in plus, Danny was her friend…

_And I let him down…_

But as she thought back, Sam was forced to realize that Danny would have been better off if she had just left him to die.

_I shouldn't have even helped him; letting him die where he was would have been a better way to go than what I got him into! _

_All I ever really did was extend his death warrant…_

Sam remembered that the soldier who knocked her out had acted just as rash as she had, though…

**_The moment she had almost reached Danny, the Confederate swung his musket around and struck Sam just behind her ear. _**

And after that, everything prior to waking up was blank.

She growled in frustration as she looked around. Sam's top priority was finding Danny, but she didn't even know where _she_ was…

Sam hesitated as she spotted a large wooden door to her right. Unsure of what to do, she debated whether or not she should open it. After all, she probably counted as a prisoner of war now, and she had no idea who or what was on the other side of that door.

But what if Danny was there?

_I **have** to find him. _

Taking a deep breath, Sam put her hand on the cold metal of the doorknob and turned.

She realized that what she was doing qualified as being foolhardy; stupid even. But once again, Sam didn't have much of a choice; there were no windows.

Cautiously, Sam opened the door, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

_I really hope that nobody is out there…_

She peeked her head out, half expecting to see some soldier pop out from nowhere and hold a gun to her head. With a sigh of relief though, Sam saw that this wasn't true, and she hesitantly stepped out of the office, soaking in her surroundings.

Sam noticed that she was in some type of old headquarters, a small network of hallways and other offices connected with the one she just walked out of.

The woman could also tell that the headquarters was old, for the wooden floor was irreparably cracked in many places, and the floorboards shifted under her weight with a soft creak. Maybe it was needless to say, for the interior of the building was rather unimportant, but even the brick walls showed signs of crumbling.

Sam's nose crinkled up in disgust. This place had _definitely_ seen better days…

_When was the last time someone cleaned up this place? The Revolutionary War? _

Three or four African American slaves milled about, carrying plates of food to different rooms. Laughter and the smell of cigars wafted through the air, causing Sam to grimace.

She lifted her sleeve to her nose in an attempt to get rid of the awful smell, and looked around once more to decide on where to go.

_Hmm…Hallway number one? Or hallway number two? _

Biting her lip, Sam chose the one with the least number of people in it, keeping a confident air around her despite her racing heart.

_I don't even know where I'm going…_

_…Not quite a comforting thought. _

_And it's only a matter of time until I'm caught. _

Sam resisted the urge to gulp at that last thought. What would they do to her when they _did_ catch her?

_Probably shoot me. _

But she immediately shook herself out of her thoughts.

_Don't think about that, Sam…Think about it when you've got time, _she chided herself, her heart beginning to pound with adrenaline.

_Right now, I've **got** to find Danny. _

Sam, as stealthily as she could, quickly walked down the least populated hallway (which was the one to her right), and passed by neglected office after neglected office. She impulsively ducked her head every time a window appeared in the walls, just in case someone _was _in one of those dilapidated rooms, and she even tried to avoid from making the wooden floor creak beneath her steps. Sadly though, the latter proved to be literally impossible.

She winced every time she moved forward on a particularly squeaky floor board, convinced that someone could hear her.

_I'm gonna get caught…_

And as fate would have it, she was right.

As Sam strode by a particular office full of soldiers (she could hear their voices), she accidentally stepped on the worst spot in the floor. The rotted wood below her foot gave way from the weight, and in mere seconds, the girl felt herself plummet to the ground as pain shot up her leg.

Sam's voice squeaked as she ungracefully fell on her hands and knees, sharp wooden splinters digging into her skin the instant she impacted with the ground, the sound ricocheting off the surrounding walls.

And for a split second, she didn't move from where she crash landed. The harsh impact jumbled her thoughts and jarred her bones, leaving her in a small state of disorientation.

_**Ouch**…_

Now, her fall wasn't extremely loud, but the sharp sounds instantly alerted the soldiers inside the office that someone was _outside_ of it.

Sam cringed as she unfroze, knowing what was coming.

_I'm caught. _

And with that uplifting thought, she hiked up her ruined skirt and began running at the fastest pace she could, desperately ignoring the pain that shot up from her ankle. Surprisingly though, she was a rather fast runner, and she was sure to be thankful for it later.

Faint creaks of the wooden floor reached her ears, alerting Sam that someone was following her. And with a quick glance behind her, the woman turned down into another hall, desperate to evade her pursuer.

_I can't let them find me; I've still got to find Danny!_

At that moment, the wood beneath her gave way into a dirt floor, warning Sam that she had entered a different part of the fort. The walls of brick were in better shape than before, and looking around, the woman noticed that the hallway opened up into a wide room. Large shafts of light shot from the windows that rested within the sturdy walls, which lit up the room in a subdued gold. Cot after cot was neatly lined up in rows, and a few Confederate squads were sitting and conversing on them.

Sam grimaced the instant she spotted the soldiers. _I must have run into a barracks for the soldiers…_

_Darn it, I can't turn back…That guy could still be following me. _And so, as quietly and quickly as she could, she continued on, praying that maybe, maybe they wouldn't see her.

But she knew that the odds were against her. Although actually, she _had _no odds…

Sam had just barely made it halfway across the room when a voice suddenly called her out.

"Hey you!" one of the Confederates yelled out at her. "What are you doing back here! This is private property!"

_Uh-oh. _

The woman instantly stopped in her tracks at the man's voice, wincing.

_What do I do? What do I do! _She panicked, unsure of how to respond. _I don't know what to do!_

And so, she did the only thing that came to mind: _run. _

Her feet unfroze from their spot as she began to sprint down the room with almost a supernatural speed. She tore past the beds with a pace she didn't even know she had, blindly running through the connecting halls as her black hair whipped around her pale face.

_I have to get away! I still need to find Danny…and God **knows** where he is…_

However, Ladies and Gentlemen, while our heroine had somehow managed to cross into the hallway that led to Danny, she also managed to make her situation ten times worse.

The instant she had begun running, a few of the Confederates jumped up from their spots and trailed after her at top speed, grabbing their muskets just in case.

Angry shouts of "Hey you!" and "Get back here!" reached Sam's ears as she turned down into a dark corridor. _I can't let them catch me!_

In a blind panic, the girl's eyes flitted from side to side, desperately trying to decide if hiding in the rooms ahead of her would be worth the risk.

_It'll buy me time in any case…_

Not caring as to which one she chose, Sam randomly grabbed the doorknob closest to her, and yanked the door open. Then, as quietly as she could, she slipped in and shut the door behind her.

_Please don't let them find me…_

Her heart pounded faster and faster as the roar of angry footsteps became louder.

_Please don't let them find me! _

"-it! That wench must have gone down the other corridor," one of them said in between short breaths.

The sound of footfalls stopped at that moment, and only muffled conversation reached Sam's ears.

"Ya think she was a spy?" a deeply southern-accented voice nervously asked.

"We'll find out soon enough," his superior replied simply, and cocked the gun in his hand to emphasize that comment. _Click. _"Let's split up; we'll find the girl faster that way."

"Yes, Sir!"

Sam gulped as she wheeled around to survey the room she was in.

_They're gonna find me, they're gonna find me! _She panicked. _I've got to hide! _

The last rays of sunshine filled the medium-sized room in a deceptively soft light that came from a barred window at the highest point on the west wall, lighting the room up for Sam to see mostly empty space. A few stacks of crates full of bullets shot up from the floor, and she looked down to see the dirt floor riddled with footsteps of soldiers long gone.

_It looks like I'm in some sort of cellar…_

At that moment, the voices from the other side of the door steadily became louder, and Sam was forced to realize that she was running out of time.

Thinking as fast as she could, she dived behind a stack of crates by the east wall so that her shadow would not be cast across the floor, should a soldier look through the window on the door.

_I think…I think I'll be fine as long as no one opens the door…_

Footfalls echoed through the thin walls of the room as did the soldier's voices, alerting Sam that they were just outside the cellar. At that point, the girl could barely hear anything other than her heart pounding her ears.

"-haven't even caught a glimpse of the girl. What if she already escaped?" Unknown to Sam, the young soldier glanced through the barred window on the door, scanning the room with his gray eyes. "Hey, uh…should we look in these rooms also?"

Another voiced reached her ears. "Oh relax. This place is practically a labyrinth; some spy couldn't possible have this place already mapped out. I've never seen this girl around, so my guess is that she's new to the game…"

The first voice replied uneasily, "But what about the-?"

"These cellars aren't even worth our time," the second voice cut in shortly. "They only lead to the prisoner hold down in the basement. And if someone _was_ stupid enough to hide there, they'd just be found out by Sergeant Koel's squad… You know, the ones that come get the ammo for us?" The man's voice suddenly became agitated. "Geez…can't you figure out anything on your own?"

"Well, _pardon me_, Captain…" The soldier rolled his eyes and continued on to dutifully follow his superior down the corridor. "So where do you think the girl _did_ get off to?"

The repetitive clunk of their boots gradually became softer at that point, as did their debate, disappearing into the networks of the fort.

Inside of the cellar, Sam slowly exhaled a breath she didn't even know shy had been holding, and let her rigid body relax, sinking into the floor with relief. _Well, _she thought dryly, _I think the game "Hide and Seek" has been forever ruined for me…_

She listened to see if anyone else was coming, and when silence met her ears, Sam stood back up, tucking a lock of raven hair behind her ear while trying to calm her still pounding heart.

_I feel like my heart's just gonna stop working…and I'm too young for that!_

But then the woman found herself mulling over the soldiers' words, for their conversation had given away a valuable piece of information.

_**"They only lead to the prisoner hold down in the basement…"**_

_Prisoner…hold…? _The wheels in Sam's mind began turning at a break-neck speed as she pieced two and two together.

_Maybe…Maybe there's where they're holding Danny! _

Acting quickly, Sam roamed her eyes over the floor of the cellar, searching for an alternate way out of the room. _It's got to be around here somewhere_, she thought determinedly.

And for a second, her violet eyes couldn't spot anything out of the ordinary. At that, Sam's heart painfully leapt into her throat as she scanned every inch of the room for a second time, making sure that she didn't miss anything.

_Oh, come **on**! I know there has to be something in here…_

Just then, her eyes fell upon an odd discoloration in the stone wall right ahead of her. The normally deep gray stone was merely a shade lighter, and was arranged in what looked to be a rectangle, spanning from the floor to about halfway up the wall.

**_"They only lead to the prisoner hold down in the basement…"_**

_…Could that be what I think it is? _

With a quick glance at the door that led into the cellar, she plodded over to the west wall, brushing her fingertips over the coarse texture of the mismatched stones.

"_So_," Sam whispered to the hidden door, "how do you open?" With a critical eye, she examined the edges of the stone, looking for a loose brick.

By the time a minute passed, Sam had found her answer.

One of the stones shook in its place when the girl attempted to move it, proving Sam's idea of a hidden spring.

_So then_, she wondered, _does this come out, or how does this door work? _

Sam sighed. _You know, this would be so much easier if I knew what I was doing…_

_But then, I've never had that sort of luck…_

Taking her chances, she shook the brick in its place, and to her surprise, the stone easily slid into the (obviously hollow) brick to its right, revealing an iron handle behind it.

_…Well, that was easy…_

She placed her hand on the handle, and forced it down with a small burst of strength. At that moment, a lone of hinges appeared on the opposite end of the door, and it slowly creaked open.

Sam gave the heavy door an extra push in order to open it fully. _Ugh, _she grunted, _this has to be one of the more secure prisons in the entire **war**…_

The door gave way to a flight of stairs that the girl supposed led to the prisoners…_And Danny_, she added hopefully.

_I hope he's alright…_

Thankfully, a score of torches lined the walls that led downward, allowing Sam to see through the darker atmosphere. Shutting the door behind her, the girl carefully began her way down the steps.

_I wonder if this was a bomb-shelter before they started taking prisoners, _Sam thought, _considering the reinforced walls and how well this place was hidden…_

The staircase wasn't by any means long. It was perhaps only fourteen or fifteen steps, Sam counted. But yet, as she came closer to the end, more sounds became apparent. Whispers among the prisoners and far off conversations between guards permeated the air with an urgent intensity.

Stepping off the last wooden stair, Sam's intuition immediately told her to keep moving. After all, she wasn't that hard of a person to spot.

A great room lied before her. Everywhere she looked, she saw restless prisoners, and a squad of Confederate soldiers guarding the exists, their steel weapons glinting dangerously in the torches' light.

Luckily though, the majority of the guards were occupied with a troublesome prisoner, and obviously, were distracted.

She snuck past prisoners and guards alike with the grace of a cat, her steps light to keep others from hearing. And as she looked at her surroundings, she took notice of the details.

When the northern soldiers were not whispering among one another, they sat in their desolate spot and didn't struggle against their bonds. Their heads were bowed low, as if praying to anyone who would listen, and they stayed in their sullen state.

Not that Sam could blame them…

Squinting her eyes, Sam tried to make out the prisoners' profiles, looking for one soldier in particular. Nevertheless though, her heart strings twanged painfully every time her eyes landed on a helplessly bound soldier.

_No one…no one deserves to be locked up in a cage, _she thought sadly. _Just like the animals, humans deserve to be free, too. _

But she reluctantly forced herself out of that train of thought. _There's no way, though…**No** way I could pull that off. _

…_I guess I just have to help in any way I can. _

Sam's pace quickened as she looked for the black hair and blue eyes that had been permanently imprinted in her memory. She knew he had to be there somewhere…but where?

And just then, perhaps out of dumb luck, her eyes locked onto him. The lean physique and mussed black hair could only belong to one person.

Yet before she could stop herself, she whispered, "Danny…"

With a quick glance around her, Sam ran to him.

Slumped against the floor and a brick wall, the northern soldier didn't appear to be moving, and the rope that bound his hands left his arms in an awkward position. The lump in Sam's throat only tightened at the sad sight, tears prickling in her eyes.

_Please….please let him be okay…!_

Sam dropped to her knees beside Danny, the soft light from surrounding torches illuminating his relaxed features for her. Almost hesitantly, she laid her hand on his shoulder and gently shook him.

"Danny?" she called to him softly. "Danny? Can you hear me?"

His slow breathing quickened with a sharp intake of breath, and he groaned lightly before opening his blue eyes, blinking wearily. "S-Sam?" Danny whispered hoarsely, his voice rough with pain. "W-what are you-?

Without even letting him finish, Sam through her arms around the soldier, and he squeaked in surprised. "I looked for you everywhere," she whispered in reply, her tone soft. "But I couldn't find you…And I thought…" Sam struggled for words, "I was so afraid that you were dead…" She hugged him just to prove that he was really there. "With that last bullet, I had no idea if you were still alive…"

_I was so afraid for you, Danny…_

Sam trailed off, her voice faltering with hidden emotions. But she quickly shook off her moment of weakness, and instead re-directed the subject with, "How are your wounds?"

Her tone of voice took on concern, but that was to be expected. After all, she cared greatly for the soldier she promised to help…

In reply, Danny smiled tiredly. "A little worse for wear, but I'm still alive." Then, as an afterthought, he awkwardly dug into his pocket (wincing as he did so), and pulled out a sheared piece of what looked to be a white bullet.

"The only thing this bullet did," he explained, "was knock the wind out of me and reopen my old bullet wounds." With that said, Danny encased the cursed bullet around the palm of his hand, and clenched his fist. When he opened his hand a second later, there was only white dust.

Sam looked up at him with wonder, her eyes revealing her curiosity.

With a small sigh, Danny replied, "Plaster," and Sam's eyes brightened in understanding. The soldier let the remains of the bullet fall to the floor before looking wearily back up at Sam. "They shot me with a plaster bullet instead of a real one. I guess the Confederates must have been hunting when they crossed our path, or something along those lines."

Suddenly Danny's eyesight grew distant. "I must just be lucky, then…If I had been shot with a _real_ bullet, I don't know if I could have handled it…I'd probably be dead right now…"

_And I would have let you down, Sam_, he added silently.

With a shaky smile, Sam lifted her hand and gently tucked a thick strand of Danny's mussed bangs behind his ear so that she could see the emotions in his eyes. "I'm just glad," she whispered, "that you're okay."

Danny found himself smiling at her attempt to cheer him up, in spite of all he had been through. "Me too," he joked lightly.

However, at that instant, the atmosphere between the two friends transformed from half way relieved and content to cold and harsh.

For, in that moment, they both realized someone was watching.

_Ca-chuk. _

"And personally, _I'm_ glad that you feel so happy, 'cause you _won't_ be feelin' that way for long," a nasally voice spoke, murderous intent openly expressed in his tone.

Wheeling around, Sam's heart stopped as she recognized the man.

It was Dash. And he had a gun.

* * *

_(Sighs.) You all hate me now, don't you? ... I'm sorry that I keep leaving off on cliff hangers, but it's just the perfect way to end a chapter! It keeps me motivated to keep writing! (Even I am curious to know what will happen at this point. My muse has a tendency to write in surprise elements.)_

_On the bright side: **THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER WHERE SAM IS OOC!** I'm sorry that she sounded...weak? Is that the right word? Yeah...weak in this chapter. The only problem was that I couldn't figure out how else she could express her concern for Danny, so please don't critisize me too much on that._

_The next chapter, however, is FULL of action, I promise! (and this time, I won't take a year to update. But then again, I dropped that time span down to three months this update! With any luck, maybe I'll only take a month or a few weeks to crank out the next chappie.)_

**Anyway, time for my reviewing questions! Please answer them in your reviews, for I always appreciate constructive critisism!**

**1.) Did this chapter have a generally good flow of words, or should I work more on my sentence structures? **

**2.) Are the characters (both originals and DP) interesting and, for the _most _part, adding a fair share to the building of the plot?**

**3.) Do my original characters over power Danny or Sam in any way?**

**4.) Think you can guess what happens next:)**

_Well, thank you all so much for reading this far into my story. I really appreciate the fact that people even read this, let alone review!_

_Speaking of which..._

**The time has come to review! Reviews, whether they are constructive critisism or praise, always get me in the mood to write! So please, help me out:)**

Thanks again,

Lightning Streak


	7. Escape

_Disclaimer: I've got no ownership over Danny Phantom_

_…Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, I can honestly say this story has been one heck of a roller coaster. Some days I have inspiration, and most of the days I don't…But I finally overcame my Writer's Block!_

_Thank you very much for hanging in there with me. I really appreciate all the support on this story! This is an extra-long chapter also, for waiting so long. So, grab the popcorn and enjoy!_

_**Summary of What's Happened So Far**: In the midst of the Civil War, two people are thrown together by fate. Sam, a woman on a mission to become a hospital nurse, and Danny, a Yankee soldier on a mission to get a message to President Lincoln. But because of a battle, Danny finds himself under the care of the runaway Sam, where both forge a mutual friendship. They set out on a journey to a hospital, and unfortunately come across a Confederate Fort. Full of soldiers. Instantly, they are captured, and separated. By the time Sam does find Danny, he's chained down in a prisoner hold, and the two have one quick moment to themselves before Dash, the Fort's Commander, comes in on the scene to interrogate Danny for information._

_

* * *

_

**Desperado **

**Chapter 7: Escape**

* * *

Dash's violet eyes glinted from the torchlight in the same way his weapon did, and instantly, both Sam and Danny knew he was not someone to be messed with. 

_This…isn't going to end well…_

The commander turned to Sam, and his mouth twisted into a smile. "Now will you look at that! Looks like your Lady Love came to try and rescue you, Danny…" His smile grew dark. "Too bad she messed up."

"Oh, just leave her alone, Dash," the northern soldier growled protectively. "She's not a part of this."

"Oh, really?" the commander challenged. "Helping enemy prisoners of war is a crime worth of death by Confederate standards." His rifle waved dangerously in the air. "There's _nothing_ you could to stop me from shooting her right now."

Sam's eyes widened in shock, but she didn't let that threat shake her. "Murder is a crime worthy of death by _all_ social standards, _Commander_," she retaliated coldly.

And for a second, the girl had the commander tongue-tied without a comeback. But, unfortunately, he bounced back. "Well, aren't _you _just a smart little spit-fire?" Dash jeered at her, angered that Sam could hurt his pride. "You're in no place to fight with me, you know that? But since you think you know everything," he responded, swinging the gun to align with her head, "you can tell me what you two were _really_ around here for."

Consequently, the girl fell into a sullen silence.

"What?" he countered with a smirk. "Cat got your tongue?"

Sam lifted her gaze to glare at him. _I won't tell you __**anything**__, you idiotic excuse for a human being, _she mentally insulted him. Of course, Dash being the type of person he was, he didn't notice the deadly undertones of Sam's glare, and only continued in his oblivion.

He raised an eyebrow. "If you think just a look is gonna scare me, you've got another thing coming," he snarled. "Now tell me what the _hell_ you two were snooping around here for."

Danny, at that particular moment in time, had the impulsive desire to punch Dash. "I _said_," he ground out, gritting her teeth. "Leave Sam out of this. It's _me_ you should be talking to."

Sam gripped the sleeve of his shirt a little tighter. _Don't do anything stupid, Danny…_

Dash glared at Danny with a piercing stare that could have killed. "Well, if you're so eager to die…" The commander cocked the rifle, and set it straight onto the tied prisoner. "You're a messenger aren't you?" he accused, his tone demanding and cold. "_That's_ the reason you're here, isn't it?"

"We wouldn't even _be_ here if you'd let us go," Danny retorted crossly.

"Oh really?" he harped, his rifle still trained on Danny's chest. His faded, purple eyes flashed in disgust at the prisoner before him. "Like I'll let you go so you can blab your message to that Lincoln idiot!"

"President Lincoln isn't an idiot!" Sam argued angrily. _He has __**far**__ more sense than __**you**_she wanted to add, but bit it back. In any case, though, she was still on a roll. "And we were just _passing through_! How can you condemn travelers?!"

Dash's head snapped to the right to face her. "Your little _lover _here has a Yankee uniform. That's far enough proof for me!"

"He's injured!" Sam countered impulsively, her angered eyes blazing like diamonds in a fire.

She didn't even deny that she was Danny's lover, she was so mad.

"Yeah, I sort of figured that out when I _shot_ him with a _bullet_," the commander bit out sarcastically. "You know, you're really startin' to get on my nerves!" He snarled in his own frustration, before turning his attention back to Danny. "Don't you Yankees know how to control your women?"

Sam's fists clenched and her teeth painfully grinded together, desperately trying to remember that the idiot before her had a gun and she didn't. Danny though, didn't react so calmly to Dash's question.

"How can you say that?!" Danny spat out in angered disbelief. "Sam's a _human being_; not an animal!" The intense dislike of the Confederate commander burst into something akin to pure hatred. "She's not some pet, she's her own person!"

Dash resisted the urge to snort. "Oh don' t start preaching to me, dirt-face. You're the one whose about ready to die." The man's lips curled back to reveal a nasty smirk, and he gave the prisoner a superior glare. "And if you don't start talking, your little love bird here will die _first_."

Danny pressed his lips together to keep himself from saying something regrettable. But, oh, how he wanted to say it! _That stupid, goddamn, __**son**__ of a__-_

"Well, what do you want us to say?!" Sam huffed. "We already told you the truth; we're just traveling through!"

Dash instantly whirled around. "One more word, little missy," he hissed, "and I _will _shoot you." Sam's mouth clamped shut (albeit reluctantly), and the commander turned his attention back to Danny. "Now, I want the truth."

A split moment of silence passed between the three. "The _truth_," Dash demanded, rudely jamming the neck of his rifle in Danny's ribs. The northern soldier winced as his sides screamed in pain, but he said nothing nor gave anything away.

The hatred burning in his eyes said everything.

It didn't take long for Dash's short fuse to run out. "I _said_, I want the _truth_!" With that, he rammed the tip of the shaft straight into Danny's shoulder, sending the prisoner reeling.

Sam gasped, her eyes widening with tears. "No, stop hurting him!" she cried out, instantly moving to aid her friend. She fell next to him, trying to block Dash from Danny.

The force of the rounded tip, although not deadly, tore at Danny's sore muscles, and his old wounds threatened to open back up. The jab robbed him of his breath, and his back fell against a supporting wall, winded without air.

He couldn't breathe well enough to retort back, but he took the abuse without a single cry of pain. His arms were still chained at an awkward angle, and unfortunately, he found himself unable to do much of anything else.

He hated this. He hated being helpless.

And he _really _hated Dash.

He could feel Sam beside him, seething just like he was. Her grip on his good arm was tight, but just enough to relay that she didn't want to get separated. "Leave Danny alone!" she angrily lashed out at Dash. Her amethyst eyes flared like burning coals.

"What did the message say?!" Dash interrogated, completely disregarding Sam. "What were you supposed to relay to Lincoln?!"

Still, Danny remained quiet, his gaze icy cold.

A few of the prisoners around them turned their heads, the noise catching their attention. They leaned forward, as if interested in the turn out of the interrogation. Their torn uniforms shifted, some of the jackets about ready to rip at the seams, and their chains rattled with their movements.

Chances were it was the most interesting thing they had to listen to. Pity and anger softly echoed in their eyes.

"Well?" Dash demanded. "Aren't you going to tell me?"

Another second passed in tense silence, and neither Confederate nor Yankee soldier budged. Danny stared ahead, undaunted by the threat of death. Dash leered silently at his prisoner, knowing that Danny's fate was in his hands.

It was almost a sick pleasure, to have someone's life in your hands. Dash found it to be his ultimate high in life; a morbid euphoria in the most wicked sense. It never failed to please the commander, and he greatly abused his power, inhumanely shooting his victims once they confessed what they knew.

Dash was a man possessed by the deadliest of satisfactions.

And he was proud of it.

At that point, everything had become a battle of pride. Dash and Danny stared each other down, fitfully glaring daggers at their opponent and never once blinking. Sadistic arrogance and determined resolve clashed in their gazes.

Both knew they couldn't win.

Dash felt the most extreme measure of disdain and anger towards the Yankee soldier. His lip curled back, his grip on the rifle tightening. _Damned Yankees…_

Here the man was, shot within an inch of his life, and yet he still refused to break. Information was crucial; even Dash, as cruel as he was, knew that fact. To kill the northern soldier without gaining information was a waste of bullets.

The Yankee's pale skin was riddled with dirt and grime, and his once proud uniform was torn and ripped. Blood pooled from his old wounds, a macabre contrast against his white shirt.

And yet, through his weakened state, through his physical exhaustion, his bright blue eyes sheared the darkness like an unnatural lantern, flaming with hatred. Like an unforgiving diamond, the facets in his eyes refused to be cut down.

His voice, hoarse and day, tore into the silence like a ragged claw. "I'd rather _die _than tell you," he whispered angrily.

"That can be arranged," the commander viciously lashed out.

However, Dash, having interrogated many people in his lifetime, knew the Yankee wasn't joking. No matter how slow of a death he was dealt, he wouldn't say a word; wouldn't betray his _precious_ country.

But unfortunately, the Yankee had obviously forgotten that Dash held the trump card.

And Sam was that card.

The commander then relaxed his arm that held the gun, as if surrendering. "Fine then," Dash sighed. "You've made your point. You _want_ to die. _But_," he added, a cruel smile teasing his lips, "are you willing to stake _another _life on that bargain?"

Instantly, Danny's bright eyes widened in fear. _That __**bastard**_With another uncontrollable wave of hatred, he growled, "No! Don't bring Sam into this!" His tone was panicked, but a growl of the most feral sense tinged his words.

Almost subconsciously, he moved in front of her, protectively blocking her with his body. Sam maintained a brave front, but he could almost hear her erratic breathing.

Yet he knew it was for not. His heart tinged in angry regret.

He couldn't protect Sam, no matter what he tried.

Dash grinned savagely as he waved over a fellow soldier. "Kwan!" he called. "Get over here!"

Without hesitation, one of the guards standing post jerked his head up, and reacted to the call. He jogged over to the far side of the prison where they were, carrying a nasty looking bayonet on his shoulder.

"Yes, Commander?" the Asian American replied good-naturedly. His speech was heavily accented, as if he had just immigrated, and he hardly looked to be over twenty-five. He looked too _happ_y to be a soldier.

Dash kept both eyes and rifle trained on the two, not trusting them for a minute. "Get the girl."

Kwan saluted respectfully and nodded. "Right away, Sir!" He turned to face them, his powerful body shadowing the light.

And in that moment, all sense of security was lost.

Sam gasped in stupefaction, her grip on Danny's sleeve growing tighter. Her instincts told her to do something, to _fight_, but she was seemingly frozen. Time had stopped.

_Danny…!_

Her eyes met with Danny's for a split second, both of their gazes panicked with concern for the other.

_I'm sorry…_

She knew she couldn't do anything.

But that didn't mean she couldn't try.

As she felt Kwan's hands grip her shoulders, Sam felt something within her snap. Instantly, she lashed out.

She wasn't going down without a fight.

"Sam!" Danny cried out, his voice like a jagged lightning bolt across the sky. Kwan roughly tried to pull her away from Danny, but Sam refused to budge. Her grip on Danny's sleeve became all the more tighter, and she dug her heels into the floor.

"No!" she struggled, her fingernails at the soldier's arms. "Let me go!" Sam yelled angrily. The man's arms didn't budge though, and it seemed nothing could stop him.

He was dragging her away from Danny.

_No, __**no! **_Instantly, she poured all her strength into resisting Kwan's rough grip. But with one jerk, he had overpowered her.

An awful ripping sound filled the room. Sam found herself holding a piece of Danny's torn shirt sleeve, the rough material clenched in her fist. Wide-eyed, she met the gaze of Danny, who was just as wide-eyed as she was. In her attempt to not be separated, she had torn his sleeve up to his elbow.

_Not good…!_

Kwan didn't hesitate. He pulled her back, his death-grip tightening around her waist.

In return, Sam jabbed her elbow into his stomach, kicked him in the shins, and twisted every which way. "Danny!" she cried out, trying to pull against the Confederate. She desperately tried to escape the man's iron grip, but her strength was no match.

Tired of her useless attempts, Kwan slid the rifle off his shoulder, and then swung it across Sam's middle, using it like a bar to keep her restrained. "If you would stop struggling, Miss," he told her, somewhat annoyed, "then I wouldn't have to be so rough."

As was expected, she didn't heed his words. "I warned you," he stated sadly, and then jammed the rifle into her stomach. Instantly, Sam let out a sharp yelp as the metal dug into her ribs.

"No, let her go!" Danny shouted, but his words were thrown to the wind. Neither Confederate heeded his words.

"Stop it!" she gasped out, stunned and breathless. Her struggles were weakened incredibly, and the small head way she'd made was quickly lost. She was roughly pulled against the soldier. "Let me go…!"

Her struggles slowly died down to occasional jerks and shoves. And all the while, Dash just watched, an arrogant little smile on his smug face.

"You see," he voiced smugly, "you all forgot about trump cards. You Yankees get so caught up in just playing a fair game, that you forget the shortcuts." Like he was strolling in a park, Dash casually sauntered over to Kwan and the still-stunned Sam. "And this is probably the most beautiful shortcut I've seen in a while," he added with a smirk. Sam desperately tried to jerk away from the commander as he ran his index finger down the side of her face. But the loyal Kwan held steadfast against Sam's struggles to escape.

"Don't touch me!" she jerked her head away from his hand.

And then, like lightning, Dash cupped her chin, and roughly forced her to look at him in the eyes. "Don't tell me what to do," he whispered harshly. He roughly let go of her chin, and then slapped her in the face.

Sam's neck jerked to the side. She froze, stunned.

_…I…I…_

_Did he just…?_

At that, Danny's smoldering hatred burst into untamable wild fire.

"Get your hands off of her!" Danny snarled protectively, his lip curling back to show his canines. He struggled violently against his bonds. "Don't hurt Sam!"

Dash's grin suddenly returned at the joy of tormenting a prisoner. He shoved Danny backwards into the wall, effectively silencing the prisoner as the back of Danny's head bashed into the stone. And for a moment, all Danny saw was gray stone, and all he could feel was the sickening desire to vomit. His wounds suddenly flared to life, hot fire coursing through every inch of his body.

_Oh G-God…_His lungs screamed in pain, and that agony seemed to spread to his heart, to his _soul_. But he tried, for Sam's sake, to push all of that back.

He had to put Sam before his own life.

By the time his blurred vision refocused, he found himself staring at Dash. A sick, almost _inhuman _hatred welled up from his stomach, and Danny was only too happy to release it. "_Bastard,_"he lashed out angrily, shaking uncontrollably. His body was failing from both his wounds and the current abuse, but that couldn't stop Danny's anger. "Why, I oughta-"

The insult just seemed to glance off of Dash's shoulders, as he interrupted without care. "Well, aren't _you _the knight in shining armor?" the commander mocked him. "Looks like you couldn't even save the damsel in distress."

Sam, through the tears welling behind her eyes, glared at the commander. "Stop hurting him," she tried to plead with Dash. But her tone of voice merely made the commander frown, as if he had gotten off track.

But then, it came back. That smug, little arrogant smile which seemed to possess Dash. It curled his lips upward into some twisted form of happiness, and stole away whatever handsome features he had.

"Now," Dash said, straightening his posture. "Let's get down to business." His quick steps brought him back to Sam, who he happily trained his rifle on. That sick, twisted smile was plastered all over his face, even as he demanded, "Tell me what you know of the Union Army. What's their status? Weapon count? Amount of mean?" His faded eyes narrowed, and the smile curled into a cruel frown. "And what were you supposed to relay to Lincoln?"

The commander tapped his fingers against the rifle's cold, ruthless trigger. The soft action seemed to fill the silence with a tense expectation, as if mocking the lack of decisions Dash had left for his prisoner.

Danny's wide, blue eyes darted back and forth between Sam and Dash. Between Sam's pleading gaze, and Dash's hard stare. Between the angel and the devil's advocate.

He didn't know what to do.

He wanted to stall for time, but he knew every ticking second sounded against him. He wanted to take Dash down; he wanted to save Sam from this undeserved abuse. He wanted an escape.

But as far as Danny could tell, there was none. His heartbeat swelled in his ears-a shot of adrenaline poured through his veins. Panic coursed through his body. His vision sharpened just the slightest degree, and his wounds seemed dampened by the adrenaline.

His fears had come to life.

_No, not Sam! _He pleaded to anyone who would listen. _Please, she doesn't deserve this!_

_Please…_

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the weapon that was alarmingly close to Sam. Trained on her heart. Ready to shoot.

Ready to kill.

Sam's brave mask couldn't hide the panic in her eyes as Danny was forced to make a decision.

Betray his country or watch his friend die.

It was the Lady and the Tiger all over again, only this time Danny knew both doors were deadly. He figured Dash would shoot someone regardless of what Danny chose.

His heart and mind were torn. Sam's eyes silently pleaded with his own, as if telling him to sign her death warrant. Don't worry about me, she relayed in her gaze.

_But Sam, _he wanted to argue with her, _I don't want to see you die. _

_I __**can't **__let you die. _His heart swelled with a sense of protectiveness.

In those moments of hesitation, precious time ticked by. And Dash wasn't becoming anymore patient.

"Well?" he broke the silence, his nasally tone screeching through the silence. His short temper had apparently fused out, and he had obviously no more patience to spare. "Aren't you gonna _save_ your little lover here?!"

As an emphasis, he unsympathetically shoved the rifle's end into Sam's ribs, smiling in satisfaction at Sam's wince, and Danny's protective snarl.

The woman jerked against Kwan's steel grip, "Don't worry about me!" A weak, accepting smile graced her features for a quick second. She knew that messengers carried valuable information, and that the USA couldn't afford a disadvantage at her expense. "My life doesn't matter; it's for the good of the country!"

Dash's lips curled back in distaste. "How patriotic…" His impatience showed as his index finger came to permanently rest on the rifle's trigger.

_Keeping the country is more important than I am. _Tears welled behind Sam's eyes, but she angrily blinked them back. _And I will __**not**__ let Danny betray the Union on my behalf. _

_I can't let that happen. _

The Yankee's blue eyes darted back and forth, like a caged animal bound for the slaughter. And when those baby blue pair landed on Sam, their panicked sadness tore through her like an unmerciful rake. _Please, don't worry about me…_she tried to plead with him, but couldn't get it across. _**Please**__, Danny! _

She saw that stubborn streak suddenly appear in his eyes, and instantly _knew_ she lost. Danny's angular jaw set stubbornly, and his eyes narrowed at Dash. His fists clenched tightly.

The silence was so tangible that Sam thought she could touch it.

It ran thick through the air, electrifying both Sam and Danny's nerves.

_I can't let you die, Sam. This isn't your fight…_

_Danny, I can't let you betray the army for __**me…**_

Although they couldn't read each other's minds, the two got their messages across. And yet, neither would budge from their beliefs.

Time stalled.

Dash's frown deepened as the silence dragged on. He was a man of many pet peeves, and whatever hold he had on his impulses wasn't strong. "Tell me the message," he stated coldly. "Or she dies."

Danny remained silent, his blue-diamond eyes smoldering. "I mean it Yankee," Dash warned. "I'm _sick_ and tired of waiting on you. If you don't make a decision soon…" he trailed off, long enough to shoot a sickening smile at Sam, "…then I'll make one for you."

Sam couldn't hide the shiver that clawed down her spine.

And Danny, who was caught in the balance, felt his heart lurch, panicked. The pace of his heart fell into an erratic beating, his warm blood pounding in his ears. "Don't hurt Sam," he whispered hoarsely, his voice rugged.

"Please…just don't hurt her…." His black hair fell over his eyes as his head bowed. Danny shut his eyes tightly. "Kill me instead."

At that, Dash raised an eyebrow. "Not until you tell me what you were supposed to tell Lincoln."

"He doesn't have to tell you _anything_!" Sam shot back on Danny's behalf, pulling against Kwan, who once again, held against the strain.

"Either he spills the information, or you die."

Silence passed between the four. Tense expectation hung thick in the air, and it pulsed throughout the entire underground prison. Dash then sighed, "You're not gonna tell, are you?"

Danny didn't reply, but his eyes spoke volumes of his indecision.

"Well fine!" the commander finally snapped. A mad, insane glint in his eyes sparked dangerously as he swung the rifle from Sam's heart to Danny's. "If you want to die so bad, then I'll be happy to kill you both!"

His sure steps brought him within a few feet of Danny, and the rifle's long neck reached only inches away from Danny's chest. "You want to die, Yankee?" Dash hatefully egged him on. That inner fire of irritation burned for death, for blood. His hand twitched furiously on the trigger, as if he could no longer hold back the beast inside.

Danny just looked up at him, resigned and accepting of his fate. He stared at the weapon trained on his heart, knowing that his death was seconds away. That he hadn't betrayed his country. That maybe, with his death, Sam could have a chance to get away.

_I'm sorry, Sam…_

And then…Dash pulled the trigger.

_**Click.** _

Sam squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look. Her whole body tensed up, waiting for that short yelp of pain, that sickening sound of a body thrust against a wall; Dash's small chuckles of satisfaction.

But she didn't hear that.

She didn't hear anything of the sort. A few sweet seconds passed as she held her breath.

Then, suddenly, she heard:

"God, _dammit_!" Dash cursed loudly. His angry voiced resounded off the stone walls, back lashing with a slight rumble. A few of the surrounding prisoners jerked in place, startled by the sudden sound. "It's out of bullets!"

Sam hesitantly cracked an eye open to see Dash angrily rip open the bullet compartment, releasing an angry growl as his prediction was proven correct.

Danny released one long breath, relieved as Dash continued in his rather colorful rant. His sigh fluttered his black tresses, and Sam felt her heartstrings pull as she saw the purple bags under Danny's tired eyes.

Dash snarled, enraged that his weapon had failed him. He cast a rather scathing glare at Danny, who rose to the challenge and levelly glared back.

"Uh…excuse me?" A meek voice rose from the darkness. "Masta' Dash?"

Instantly, the furious commander spun on his heel. "What is it now?" he demanded impatiently.

An African-American servant walked into the torch light, her steps soft and unsure. "Masta' Dash," she implored automatically, "I just got word from Commanda' Cole over at the Armory. He has urgent news he wants ta' speak with you 'bout." The coffee-colored beauty kept her teal eyes to the floor, seemingly afraid of Dash.

And Dash, in his quick moment of indecision, growled angrily, mad that his only pleasure in life was taken away. His chance to torture a prisoner was over, and he couldn't deny his other duties as a commander.

Dash gritted his teeth, and then hunched his shoulders, resigning to the call of duty.

He turned to Danny. "This isn't over, _Yankee_," the commander bit out nastily, his faded purple eyes narrowing. He slammed the rifle on the ground, and turned to Kwan. "Pick that up, and let the girl go."

Dash then huffed, and stormed through the prisoner ranks, disappearing from the torch's light. He stomped past the slave without giving her a second glance.

"Yes, sir!" Kwan replied happily, as if the situation didn't affect him. He instantly released Sam, who stumbled from the lack of restriction. "Oh, I'm sorry Miss!" he told her apologetically. "I didn't mean to hurt you!"

"_Kwan!" _Came the angry call.

"Coming, sir!" The happy soldier placed his bayonet back upon his shoulder, and loyally marched into the darkness, trailing after his commanding-officer.

This left the serving-girl, Sam, and Danny.

The moment Kwan and Dash were gone, the servant's brilliant eyes looked up from the floor, settling on the two. And this time, instead of meekness and obedience, her eyes sparkled with a knowing intelligence and a rather spunky defiance. She cast an evil glare over her shoulder at Dash, and then hurriedly ran to Sam's side. Her orange and yellow dress splashed across the stone floor as she knelt down to help Sam.

Sam gratefully accepted her help, wincing as she stood, wrapping an arm around her abused ribs. "Thanks," she whispered back, unable to properly move her legs. Sharp pangs tore through her side as the repercussions of Kwan's rifle took their toll on her ribs.

Valerie gently helped Sam over to Danny, who, at the same time, wasn't in the best of shape. His tired eyes met Sam's, and a weak smile graced his abused features. "Sam…" he whispered hoarsely, his worn voice breaking with relief.

Sam returned his smile with a tired one of her own. The amber torchlight flickered from their sconces, their flames lighting the exhausted faces of the two friends.

Valerie hid a small smile at the scene, and she slowly released Sam from her stable hold. _What a pair…_

On shaky limbs, Sam stumbled over to Danny and fell her knees, wrapping her arms around the soldier. "Danny…" She buried her face in the crook of his warm neck, careful of his injuries. "You're okay." The adrenaline rush flew from her limbs, and her hands shook from the stress.

The soldier, unable to hug her back, just laid his head against hers, closing his ocean eyes. "Sam," he breathed softly. He took in her warmth, and the feel of her arms around him.

_I can't believe it…You're okay… I'm still alive…_

_**You're okay…**_ A small tear escape his relieved eyes, trailing down his pale cheek and catching the light from the torches.

Just then, the African slave kneeled beside them, staring them straight in the eyes. "My name's Valerie," she whispered, her voice now confident and more gruff. "And I can help you."

Instantly, she caught the attention of both Sam and Danny. Their eyes widened at her proposal. _Wha…?_

Her speech was now more refined, more articulate. "I can get you two out of here," she told them, careful to keep her voice low. The shadows seemed to work with her, as she blended in with the torchlight.

"You'd…help us?" Danny found himself asking. The quick transformation from meek to bold that the woman had undergone left him rather dazed. And one quick glance at Sam's face told him that he wasn't the only one surprised.

The slave leaned in a little closer, and, with a quick dart of her eyes to see if anyone was coming, she admitted, "I'm a spy for the Union Army. I can help you escape from here." A little, devilish smirk lit her face as she pulled a key from her dress pocket.

Sam moved away from Danny so that Valerie could get to his chains, and Danny tried to maneuver his arms into a more reachable position.

Then, like an expert locksmith, she inserted the metal key into the lock on Danny's chains. They softly clanked to the floor, and the soldier winced as blood flooded into his wrists.

His shoulders protested the sudden movement as he jerked from the pain. He rubbed his left wrist, it having been burdened with most of the brunt. He grimaced, "Thanks."

Valerie shrugged, tucking the metal key back into her pocket. "I overheard that you're a messanger," she said, turning her head to keep an eye on the guards. "And if that's the case, then Dash will be back. Soon." She bit her lip. "You're new meat around here…Chances are he'll rush through everything to come back."

"I have to get you out of here _right now_."

And with that explained, she offered them both a hand up.

"Just follow my lead…"

* * *

_Agh! This story is killing me! I'm sorry it took me forever and a half to get this story out, but creating an interrogation was twice as hard than what I had expected…I hoped it turned out okay. _

_Dash turned out a lot more evil than I expected, also…(insert sheepish smile.) I guess it worked though, right? And I even brought in two more canon characters; Kwan and Valerie made their first appearance!_

_Anyway, I hope you liked it. I tried to make it realistic with the times, and I hope that no one takes offense to any of the content._

_**If you could, please answer these questions in your reviews; I always appreciate constructive critisism!**_

_**1.) Did this chapter have a generally good flow of words, or should I work more on my sentence structures? **_

_**2.) Are the characters (both originals and DP) interesting and, for the most part, adding a fair share to the building of the plot?**_

_**3.) Do my original characters over power Danny or Sam in any way?**_

_**4.) Was anything out of place, or was anything confusing?**_

_**5.) Despite the time-lapse between updates, has this story been able to keep your attention and maintain a certain level of reader interest? **_

_Thank you all so much for everything; I appreciate you guys so much, and I can't even begin to thank you for answering my interrogations!_

_Thanks for reading, _

_Lightning Streak_

**_Please Review:)_**


	8. Shadow

_Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom_

_W00t! Another chapter! I feel horrible that it took so long to update this one…I apologize for any mistakes, plot holes, etc. If any of you, like myself, had forgotten how the plot went, there's a few nice little summaries in previous chapters. :) I knew those would come in handy!_

_But anyway, I hope you enjoy this next chapter!_

* * *

**Desperado **

**Chapter 8: Shadow**

* * *

It might've been funny if their situation wasn't so grave.

Sam was still in pain and couldn't properly walk because of her ribs. And Danny, because of his wounds, was in the same boat as Sam.

So, realizing that they had no time to lose, they decided to lean against one another. Valerie quickly helped them up from the floor, and then took lead. "Will you be okay for now?" she asked them, her deep teal eyes intensely searching theirs.

Sam and Danny glanced at each other and then nodded. No words were needed, for precious time ticked by with every minute.

Every second counted.

Thus, the African-American turned around. "This place," she explained in a whisper, "is like a maze. Try to stick close behind me, and stay out of the guard's sight."

The amber light from the torches lit the prison just enough to see the outlines of other prisoners and the dangerous glint from their chains. Fuzzy outlines of the walls faded into bleak darkness with every step of the way, as if they were walking into the unknown.

The stone walls flickered with shadows, warning them of lurking Confederates. Of the danger.

Of their possible deaths.

Ahead of the two northerners, Valerie appeared to be in her element. The stealthy woman seemed to blend in with the shadows, and she held the prowess of a panther. Her brilliant, teal eyes constantly scanned the premises.

Her vision, evidently, wasn't compromised by the dark.

Aware of their situation, the other prisoners held their tongues. Danny guessed that they knew of Valerie, the way a few stuck their heads out as they passed. She returned with a quick twirl of her fingers, silently promising their escape also.

On the other end of the prison, one of the captured Yankee soldiers stirred up trouble for the guards. The man insulted one of the Confederates, and in turn, a rather loud verbal match between the two erupted. Angry words bounced off the walls, echoing around the prison. It caught the attention of all the guards, and easily diverted their attention away from the three escaping.

It was an act.

And the way Valerie was smiling meant that it had probably been planned.

Sam, in her adrenaline rush, held on tighter to Danny._ I hope we get out of here alive, _she prayed to whoever would listen. Her life's blood pumped wildly in her veins, and she was convinced that everyone could hear her heart.

But yet, at the same time, a wild and indescribable feeling filled her mind. It was almost like freedom, but it contained something akin to anticipation and the onslaught of danger. Her mind raced with the tendrils of its intoxicating sensation, and it made the ends of her nerves tingle.

It was adrenaline at its most purest state. And for once, she felt like her life had suddenly gained a reason, however muddled it currently was. She was in danger, something that she had never once experienced before. She'd never had a reason to feel so…_alive _before.

This was _way_ better than being some miserable, married woman.

The strong, protective weight of Danny's arms around her waist proved that.

Meanwhile, Valerie had turned around to face them. "It shouldn't take much longer," she whispered encouragingly to them. "The escape door is just up ahead."

Yet, for all of their good luck so far, not everything in life was easy. Like escaping, for example.

Suddenly, Valerie stopped in front of them. Her posture stiffened, her movements rigid. Her bright eyes widened. "Quickly, follow me!" she whispered anxiously. She veered off into another hall beside them, and Sam helped Danny to follow. Danny sucked in a sharp breath with the quick action, and Sam looked up at his face in concern.

He managed to cast her a smile that said _I'm okay_, but it was dampened by the grimace beneath. Sam wasn't convinced, but she dropped it, and Danny was grateful.

Silhouettes of a Confederate passed over the walls.

"Hey, Captain!" came a distant call. "You might want to see this, sir."

And up ahead of them, Valerie barely stifled a curse. _They know…!_

Her pace quickened a bit, though she was sure to not lose Danny and Sam. And as she turned back to face them, she saw that Danny was quickly losing momentum. _Uh oh…not good! _

She looked at the walls, and noticed how the shadows behind them were moving quicker, spreading throughout the prison.

They knew someone was escaping.

Valerie thus stopped, twirled around beside Sam and Danny, and gently pulled Danny's other arm around her shoulders. "Come on," she whispered, panicked. "They know we're still here!"

The sound of guns reloading echoed off the stones. Dash's voice snarled out a command. He knew _exactly_ who'd escaped. And he was not happy.

Screw that meeting he was supposed to be at.

"Lock the main doors!"

The shadows flitted quickly across the lights, and the torches whispered with warnings. Valerie's heart sped up; she wasn't used to cutting it this close. She normally was out of the way before they locked down the fort…

But she knew the way, and so she managed to hide her uneasiness.

Yet for Danny, the tension in the air was a bad omen. Darkness seemed to swallow up and devour whatever sense of direction he had, and it unmercifully tore into his mind. Fear and doubt had become so incredibly_ tangible _in that darkness that he had a hard time suppressing it. With his good arm, he held Sam closer to him, as if attempting to protect her.

It took every ounce of control to follow Valerie, to make one foot walk in front of the other. His jaw was set in a painful grimace, and sweat beaded from his temple. His body was so tired, and his injuries were literally killing him.

Danny tried not to think about that last part though, dutifully staring ahead with an unfocused sight. _Just a little longer…_he told himself.

_Hang in there just a little bit more…_

A shadow on the wall passed too close for comfort.

His heart pumped erratically, overtaxed and adrenaline-consumed. He knew as much as any other prisoner, and he had no guarantee of his escape. Anything could happen; that was the one life-truth he had come to respect.

His current situation was proof of that.

But still, it left him teetering on the edge between consciousness and that blissful, comforting darkness…

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. _I can't think like this…! _

_I've got to keep going, right?_

If he squinted, he could pick out the dark outline of a door. It seemed to be hidden by the shadows and was carefully tucked away in the prison's maze-like dead ends. He couldn't remember how he had gotten there; all he cared about was the fact that it _was_ there. It was really there…

…An escape.

* * *

_We made it. _

Valerie quietly shut the door behind them and then leaned against it, sighing. "We're safe for now…I think." _No one ever comes here…_She turned her head to face the soldier and his lover. Or, she thought the woman was his lover, anyways.

Still, she couldn't help but wince. The soldier, _Danny, _she remembered, was currently paying for his actions. Within the small supply room, he leaned against the west wall, unable to stand on his own even with Sam's help.

His eyes were shut tight, and his face was twisted in a grimace. He breathed in soft gasps; he clenched his arm, and his fingertips were rapidly staining with blood.

"S-Sam…"

Immediately, she was by his side and barely managed to catch him. Sam slowly allowed Danny to slide down the length of the wall with her guiding help, and they both ended on the ground. Valerie jerked in place, as if unsure to help or to stay out it. But she quickly decided on a different course of action.

_Bandages…_

Her hands seemed to move on their own accord as she began searching the cabinets. "Is he okay?" she quietly called to Sam, multi-tasking.

Sam's own pair of hands shook as she tried to make Danny comfortable, brushing the bangs out of his eyes. "I-I don't know…" Her friend drifted in and out of consciousness, having overtaxed his body. The wound in his arm was bleeding, the skin cracking around it. And once again, she found herself helpless. Her own minor injuries were pale in comparison to his.

Valerie turned around, arms full of white gauze and stolen medical bottles. Her teal eyes hardened in determination. "Then we're gonna _make_ him okay," she said firmly. She kneeled beside them, handing Sam a strip of gauze and one of the bottles. The violet-eyed woman eagerly took the items, and she closely examined the green container.

Within the bottle was some sort of liquid. And as she examined it closer, she realized it was alcohol.

The other woman noticed Sam's strange look, and replied, "Girl, he's gonna _need_ it."

* * *

Drifting in and out, Danny barely understood anything. All he knew was that he hurt, and he hurt _bad. _He could barely feel the hands of Sam, wiping away the bangs in his eyes and softly trailing her fingers down the sides of his jaw. He could barely decipher the words said by Valerie, although he did understand the urgency behind them.

_Am I dying? _

He couldn't tell. Maybe he'd died already and he was just passing through, he didn't know. But the pain was so real, so _tangible_, that he wondered if maybe he had arrived in Hell.

The pain in his arm lit into a fire, spreading up into his shoulders and down his spine. It was electrifying in its most proverbial sense, and for a moment, Danny felt the darkness in his mind leech a little closer.

But one second later, he felt Sam gently grip his good hand in her's. And in that second, he understood something.

He understood that he _had_ to fight.

And suddenly, the pain didn't feel so bad. The darkness was far, _far_ worse, and he found himself battling that rather than his physical pain. His muscles clenched, and his own soft cries grew distant to his ears. Soon, he could no longer decipher between reality and fantasy, and he could no longer tell if Sam and Valerie were still bandaging him.

Within seconds, he fell into silent delirium.

Tears slipped down from Sam's eyes, but Valerie's own pair hardened. "Rule number one," the African American said as she handed the bandages to Sam, "never let your emotions distract you while tending a patient."

Apparently, she was an expert in the field.

* * *

Time passed, but Danny didn't know how much. It felt like hours; it could have felt like days. The amount of energy it took Danny to fight against that darkness was draining, exhausting at best.

But the moment he opened his eyes, he knew it was worth it. Teary violet eyes greeted him, and he suddenly felt Sam throw her arms around him in a relieved hug. "Danny!" she whispered in his ear. "You're okay!"

_Sam…_

Her name warmed his soul, and he managed to crack a dry smile. "'Course I'm' kay…" Danny's speech sounded slurred, and his black bangs covered his eyes as he turned his head to the side. He closed his eyes, "I'm just…tired."

And for a moment, it felt so nice to relax, to _not _feel pain. His shoulder was numbed, and he could breathe without his stomach lurching into spasms. Quite frankly, he wondered if maybe he'd found heaven.

The guardian angel beside him might have been a tip off.

But then he realized that heaven couldn't possibly be a Confederate fort with about a dozen armed soldiers coming after him.

Personally, it sounded a bit too…earthly.

So, with that thought, Danny sighed and reveled in the short moment that he had. No pain, good company…

Too bad it couldn't last.

* * *

A while later, time yet again found Sam by Danny's side. The soldier's pain had subsided enough for him to manage normal movement, and his wounds had been professionally bandaged by Valerie (and Sam). Second by second, she gradually helped him stand up. Valerie watched the two from a distance, her eyes shifty and nervous.

They had to leave. Three hours had passed since they'd disappeared from under Dash's nose, and Valerie was sure that he would be missing her soon as well. Which, all things considered, would _not_ be good.

Not to mention that Danny's wounds were serious, whether or not he wished to admit it, and Valerie knew that the soldier and his girl couldn't afford to rest in their enemy's wake. Time was against them.

"Come on," Valerie pleaded. "We have to hurry." _Too much time has passed already!_

Most soldiers she helped were not in such critical condition.

And so, slowly, she guided them through another door, away from the prison and into a tunnel. The tunnel, dark and old, was a short alternative to the outside stables. In no time at all, it opened like a walk-out basement into a discreet room. From there, Valerie trafficked them around the horse stables, cleverly disguising them under night's shadows.

The few soldiers still milling about never even noticed them.

Forests surrounding the back perimeter of the fort proved to be a godsend, for the three melted into the dense shadows, indistinguishable in the night. As soon as they reached a spot away from prying eyes, the stealthy spy left them for a short moment. And as they waited under the cloak of the trees, Valerie quickly reappeared, two horses in tow. She guided them by their reins, and when the moonlight washed over them, Sam and Danny instantly recognized their horses; Belle and Phantom.

"Oh my God," Sam whispered. Then, her eyes brightened, and a smile lit her face. "Belle!" Her horse lifted its head in acknowledgement and happily neighed. Phantom snorted quietly as he walked towards his master, and Danny smiled. He lifted his good arm to stroke Phantom's nose, and the horse nuzzled his palm.

"Hey," he whispered in greeting to his military buddy. Danny looked over at Sam, and she smiled back through Belle's mane.

"Dash will know that these horses are missing, so try to cover your tracks," Valerie advised, her teal eyes bright against the dark sky. "Guards will begin patrolling at 5:30."

The sun was already peaking over the hills.

"Then," came Sam's whispering voice, "I guess we better get going." She looked back at Danny, and he nodded in agreement. Sam lifted herself onto Belle's saddle with an authorative air, as if preparing herself for the journey ahead. Her eyes were wizened, more confident than anyone remembered.

Or had she always been so self-content?

The spy gave them a sad smile, as if wishing that she could go too. "There's a hospital about thirty miles upriver." She glanced over at Danny, and then added, "But don't worry. They take both Northern and Southern soldiers."

The military man gave her a nod of gratitude, and she returned it much like a comrade would.

As he began to lead Phantom through the weaved trees, something interrupted his train of thought. Valerie seemed to hesitate as they walked away, watching them with held-back emotions. Then, suddenly, she ran after them and piped up, "Wait!" Danny stopped in mid-tracks, and turned back around to face her.

The African-American bit her lip, her confidence gone. Her eyes were both hopeful and sad; faithful and resigned. "I…" she struggled for words, "I don't normally ask this question, but…I need to know…"

She met his gaze with her own hopeful one. "Do you, by any chance, know of a man named Tucker? Tucker Foley?"

Sam pulled gently on Belle's reins, pausing to listen in on their conversation. _Tucker? _She wondered curiously. _Who's that?_

And, in that moment, Danny's heart dropped to his boots. _T-Tuck…?_ His mind froze.

He drew in a sharp breath, as if unprepared for the onslaught of emotions. A tense silence weaved itself into the air, electrifying Danny's every nerve. A thousand images of his best friend's death suddenly sprang into his mind, and they slashed into the very core of his soul.

The memory of Tucker's death suddenly rushed through his mind. He found himself in the center of it all once more, having reverted back to his memories. His grip on the horse reins loosed.

The gun smoke. The blood. Tucker's wild, panicked eyes.

His best friend's last breath.

_**"Oh God…" **_And…

"Danny?" Valerie's prompting voice cut into his thoughts. He was suddenly whirled back to the present, and his attention snapped back to the girl. "Danny?"

He blinked, and then he shook his head, trying to clear his head. Even Sam gave him a concerned look. "Uh, s-sorry," he stammered an apology. "It's just…I, I mean…"

"Tell me!" Valerie pleaded with him. She clasped her hands together, as if preparing for bad news. "Do you know Tucker? Your uniform's from the same company as him; surely ya've gotta know 'em!"

And at that moment, Danny was forced to make a decision. The tension flowing from Valerie was unbearable and so, _so_ hopeful. _I can't tell her the truth. _He lowered his eyes, mind full of phantom pains. "I…I'm sorry." He looked up at her, regretfully looking her in the face. "I don't know anyone by that name."

Valerie's entire expression froze, and, for a moment, Danny didn't know what to expect of her. But then, the light slowly left her eyes, and her face fell. "Oh…" She unclasped her hands, letting them fall to her sides. Her proud shoulders slumped.

"Never mind, then," she whispered. Bright, glassy eyes met his. "But…if you ever hear anything about him, can…can you find a way to tell me?"

Danny swallowed hard. "Y-yeah," he whispered hoarsely. He took Phantom's reins into his hands, clenching the worn leather in empty comfort.

Valerie seemed to search his eyes for a second, but she missed whatever she was looking for. "Thank you," she told him, a sad smile on her face. Yet she clenched her fists, and soon her expression was replaced with her normal confidence.

She pointed north. "There's a path you can follow, up to the border. It's regularly taken by travelers and doctors, so I don't think you should have any trouble as long you keep your uniform hidden." Valerie sighed before turning to both Sam and Danny. "Good luck, to the both of you."

Sam nodded in appreciation. "Thanks." She turned to look over at Danny, and she noticed how he indiscreetly held his side. She flicked her eyes back to Valerie. "We're gonna need it."

And Valerie, under the cloak of the night, silently watched them go.

Another set of eyes did as well, but they were not quite as friendly.

* * *

_Once again, I'm sorry for the late update. This story seriously hates me for some reason…really! It does! It's like the plot haunts…I have an idea for later chapters, but getting there is definitely one Writer's Blocked roller coaster._

_But on a brighter note, I got my inspiration back by reading some good ol'e fashioned Civil War ghost stories. Have you ever read them? No? Well, if you haven't, go to google and type it in. Seriously, it's pretty interesting!_

**1.) How was the transition between characters? Choppy or smooth?**

**2.) Are the characters still characters, or are they wooden and need more work? **

**3.) Any comments on word choice and word flow? **

**4.) Was the chapter stagnant in any way? **

**5.) Is this story still interesting, or has it lost its suspense factor? **

**6.) Any suggestions you might want to add:) **

_Thank you all for reading,_

_Lightning Streak_

**Please review!**


	9. Hospital

_Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom._

_Hello, everyone! Thanks a bunch for the reviews!_

* * *

**Desperado**

**Chapter 9: Hospital**

* * *

**Virginia Countryside: 109 Miles From Maryland**

**Springport, Virginia**

**June 10, 1862**

**9:48 P.M.**

* * *

"And _that_," Sam concluded, finishing her story, "was how we made it here."

Her tired, violet eyes swept over the room, landing on the small group of listeners she'd acquired over time. Originally, it had just been the doctor and nurse, but other hospital staff had passed by and couldn't stand to miss the story of the new patient. All seven of them looked at her with a mixture between admiration and concern.

"Did the Confederates ever find you again?" one of them asked curiously. Judging by her blue outfit, Sam guessed that she supported the North.

Sam nodded tiredly. "Yes, but Commander Dash wasn't with them. We pretended that we were travelers passing through, and they believed us."

One of the Confederate nurses merely turned up her nose. "How depressing," she stated. The others ignored her, and even the two other Confederate nurses gave her a dark glare.

"Did you come across any more battle fields?" asked one nurse dressed in gray and red. Confederate. But her blue eyes were sad and concerned, something that Sam thought strange.

The girl just shook her head, "No."

"How much did Daniel's condition worsen over the trek?" the doctor asked, writing down notes and such on his clipboard. He looked up at Sam, his gray eyes serious but comforting. He was a giant of a man, Native American as well. Jedediah Ravenstorm was his name, or so Sam tried to remember.

It was an odd name, but inconsequential to the situation.

The girl looked past the doctor for one moment, her worried eyes resting on the hall where Danny had been taken. "He was fine," she replied softly, "until about the last ten miles. Then, he just…" she trailed off, biting her lip in barely concealed fretting. "He just doubled over on Phantom in pain."

_It was so scary…_

Sam glanced into the doctor's eyes, demanding truth. "Will he be okay?" she asked him.

And in reply, the doctor's sun-wrinkled face fell into a frown. "I'll do what I can for him," he told her honestly. He looked back down at his notes, sweeping his gaze over his own scrawled writing.

"Miss Manson," Dr. Ravenstorm finally concluded, "I have three soldiers in line for surgery, so I may not be able to aid Daniel for some time. He has been put into a room down the hall where he can be tended by nurses until then. Are you okay with this?"

"What else can be done?" Sam instantly questioned, her voice worried and her eyes continuously darting to the hall. "Will he be okay 'till you get to him?"

And at that, the nurse cut in with a curt nod. "Miss Manson, Eastside Hospital is known for its well-versed medical team." The elderly woman dropped her stern gaze for only a second, just to lift her lips in a knowing smile. "Daniel Fenton will be well cared for."

Jedediah nodded in agreement, his honest smile knocking years from his expression. But as soon as his smile appeared, his original, doctor-like mask returned. "Now," he said to Sam, "is there anything else you can tell me?"

She just gave him a worried shake of her head, knowing that she wasn't much help. "He was really warm just before we arrived; he said he was hot and cold at the same time." Sam gave him a helpless lift of her shoulders. "I tried to ask him how badly he was hurting, but he wouldn't tell me." _That idiot, _she added mentally.

And in reply, the doctor stopped writing a looked up, giving Sam a comforting look. His eyes were kind and he said with a small, sad smile, "Well, Miss Manson, from all that you two have gone through so far, I would be _shocked _if he didn't survive this." He gave Sam a concerned look, much like knowing grandfather. "Don't worry yourself to death. I'll do my best, ma'am."

It was the most encouragement he could give her, and even though Sam appeared strong, her heart longed to have definite proof that Danny would live. "When can I see him?" she asked.

Jedediah gave a sigh, his shoulders slouching to reveal his true age. He was perhaps fifty, perhaps older. "I'll call for you as soon as possible," he replied. And with that, he bid her a good night and left the rest to his nurse. His form disappeared into the halls lit only by torches, on the way to the surgery room.

His walk was tired and aged, as if exhausted of the world.

How many more young couples would he see be torn apart by war?

The nurse then turned back to Sam, and gave her a welcoming smile from behind her professional mask. "There's a room for family and friends, if you wish to wait there." Taking in the girl's haggard appearance, the nurse knew that Sam needed the rest.

But instead of nodding tiredly like all others, Sam seemed reluctant to follow the advice. "…Actually," she said, rather hesitant with her words, "I was wondering something…"

As the nurse waited patiently, Sam got up her nerve to ask: "C-can I help you out?" Her violet eyes were both confident and timid, as if knowing that she may be rejected but unwilling to admit it. Her expression was drawn with hope, and for a second, even her tired appearance seemed to be overcome with resolve. "As long as Danny is a patient, could I learn to be a nurse here?"

The setting sun slowly sunk beneath the land.

And with that, the elderly woman blinked. For a second, she didn't know what to do, much less what to say. _What an odd request…_

After all, few people offered their services without first instigating some form of payment. Few people offered to help in a hospital. And even fewer asked to join the medical team. Of course, there were a few requirements…

"Miss Manson?" the nurse asked. "You are not married, correct?"

Sam furrowed her eyebrows at the question. "That's right; why do you ask?"

The older lady began ticking off the requirements. "Well, according to the laws, a woman is only allowed to apply for a nurse's station if she is married, over the age of twenty-one, and plain-faced." She searched Sam's eyes. "It is obvious that you are _not _married, that you _are_ younger than the requirement, and... you aren't exactly plain-faced, dear."

Sam just gave her a jilted, almost angry look. She hadn't caught onto the subtle compliment on her physical appearance. "And why should _marriage _matter?"

Patiently, the nurse replied, "Because, dear, that's society. And society says that marriageable, innocent girls like you shouldn't be around wounded soldiers, not chaperoned." She shrugged. "If you were, your reputation and integrity would be questioned."

The girl, in reply, sputtered in anger. "That's absurd! That's the most illogical thing I've ever heard!" Her fists clench. "Good people are dying, and all society can think about is someone's _reputation_?!"

The nurse, one of the original Nightingales from the front lines, suddenly felt a little smile tease her lips. As she studied Sam, she saw not the airy mentality of a country-girl, but rather the resolved determination of a worldly woman.

Of a Nightingale.

"But…I might be able to make an exception. The job that you are asking for," the nurse said carefully, testing Sam, "is full of hardships, physical labor, and emotional pain. Because you are not married, there is a certain amount of risk regarding reputation and respect." She stared straight into Sam's eyes, her own blue pair narrowing. "Could you handle that?"

And Sam seemed to consider this for a moment. She knew it would be a hard job. She knew the risks. But she also knew what her heart told her. She nodded vigorously, and the nurse seemed pleased.

"Very well," she said with finality.

"Welcome to the Eastside Medical Team."

* * *

Guided by a fellow nurse, Sam was handed a nurse's uniform by the woman as they walked up the stairs. "This is great!" the red-head voiced, her tone both relieved and excited. "The staff here is so small, and so few wish to help that we're all run ragged." She turned back to Sam, giving her a comforting smile. "I know _I_ really appreciate what you're doing."

In return, Sam just gave a sad nod. "I'm glad to help. I mean, I was originally going to work up in Maryland somewhere, but…" Her eyes grew a bit distant as she looked over the staircase, as if searching for someone.

The woman looked at Sam knowingly. "Fate works in funny ways," she wisely quoted. "I know this is a rag-tag sort of hospital, but we get more soldiers than you'd think." She held out her hand. "By the way, my name is Jasmine." She smiled a bit. "But call me Jazz."

Jazz was a pretty, young woman of twenty-one years. Her eyes, a bright teal, seemed to offset her fiery hair, and her expression was kind and wise.

The new recruit firmly shook her hand. "Samantha," she replied. "But call me Sam and no one get's hurt."

At that, the two managed a smile.

Jazz continued to show her around the hospital as a type of initiation. "Well, Sam, you'll need to know where everything's at if you're going to be helping the doctors." She began walking through the second floor halls, pointing out various closets of supplies. "This is both a Northern and Confederate Hospital, so don't be surprised when you work with 'enemy' soldiers."

Sam gave her a curious look. "I didn't know they had hospitals like this."

And at that, Jazz just shrugged. "It's more for convenience, because a hospital needs to have a certain amount of workers before the military can begin to ship their wounded. And the towns around here are so small, it was hard to have _just_ a Confederate or a Northern hospital. Yet…" Her teal eyes grew a bit philosophical, "I'd like to think that we can put differences aside here to save just _people, _not factions."

The philosophy appealed to Sam's conscience as well, and she gave Jazz an understanding smile. "I'd like to think that too," she said.

"The Confederates here really aren't that bad, either," Jazz told her confidently. "Don't be afraid to talk to them; they're the same as us, if you think about it."

And considering the pillaging Sam had heard of from southern states, she knew Jazz's words were true.

"Is Dr. Ravenstorm the only doctor here?" Sam asked conversationally, eager to learn as much of her new home as possible.

Jazz shook her head, but she added, "He's probably the most _frequent_. There are two other doctors you might meet around here, but they normally are kept really busy. Ravenstorm is more of an out-patient doctor, and he picks up the slack when there's an overload of surgery patients." She smiled a bit. "He may look a little odd, but he's a great doctor, and a great man. He's like the resident grandfather."

They walked down the hall in silence.

Suddenly, Jazz stopped in her tracks, and Sam nearly ran into her. "Oh no," Jazz groaned, her expression falling into a frown.

"What?" Sam asked curiously.

"I guess I forgot to tell you something," the girl berated herself with a sigh. Then, almost under her breath, she added, "Just when I thought there was hope."

Sam, her curiosity mounting, questioned once more, "Hope? Hope for what?" She raised an eyebrow and said, "You know, I already agreed to help. If you're worried that I'll run away, don't. I am _not _scared of this job."

Jazz nearly snorted in ironic amusement. "Yeah, maybe not from the _job_…" She turned her brilliant eyes to Sam, searching and concerned. "It's just…Well, I don't know how to break it!"

Now becoming annoyed, Sam asked in exasperation, "Break _what_?"

"I don't know how to break that, well…" Jazz trailed off nervously. Surely, her words would scare Sam away, and she didn't want that! Her eyes seemed to darken a bit as she asked, "Sam, are you afraid of the dark?"

And with that, Sam, who had been expecting a less…adolescent question, merely raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Did you _really_ just ask that?" she deadpanned.

Jazz nodded seriously. "Well you see, around here that's a big deal if you're not."

The black-haired girl just gave her a strange look. "What do you mean?"

"There's a reason," Jazz tried to explain, "why we're always so short of staff, and it's mostly because we can't keep our staff to stay for long."

But the strange expression Sam had gained merely deepened, and she replied haughtily, "Well of course I'm not afraid of the dark!"

The older girl didn't seem convinced. "Are you afraid of things you can't explain?" she pressed on.

"Nope," Sam said firmly.

"Are you afraid of…ghosts?" Jazz whispered the last word, as if challenging both Sam and the air around them.

And with that, the new recruit just gave her a weird stare. "What in the _world_ are you talking about?" she asked, now slightly concerned for Jazz's mental stability.

But Jazz wouldn't hear anything about it. "Look," she said, "I'm not trying to scare you or anything, but…sometimes strange things happen here." Her words had a strange finality to them, and Sam wasn't sure what to make of them.

"You mean the hospital's _haunted_?" Sam concluded skeptically.

But Jazz merely nodded, her expression serious. "Don't take me lightly," she warned.

Sam crossed her arms in typical cynicism. "Oh?" she said. "And do you have _proof_ of this?" She wasn't about to be scared by an old wife's tale, nor was she to be scared by someone else's paranoia. "I listened to ghost stories back home, and none of those had any evidence behind them." _And who's ever heard of a haunted __**hospital**__?_

"Well," Jazz said, "don't say I didn't warn you." A distant, almost amused look passed over her face, and her eyes laughed guardedly. "Trust me, I didn't believe them either when I first came here."

And with that, the two walked on in silence, never minding the torches' simultaneous flicker.

* * *

From a bird's eye view, Eastside Hospital could be considered many things.

It was a hospital renovated from an abandoned country home, and the floorboards occasionally squeaked. It was two stories high with an extra edition of rooms for soldiers. That last part was new of course, but with one hundred patients plus every day, the doctors figured it needed to be added on to. An entire barracks stretched from the back of the house, capable of holding three hundred beds.

It used to be an extravagant house, one could easily tell, and it sat upon a regal hill. The Victorian styling to its outside betrayed the delicate wall paper within, unfortunately stained with smears of blood and dirt. It was a relatively clean hospital nonetheless. Much better than the major cities.

The actual house part was used for family waiting rooms, staff sleeping quarters, and supply storage. There was a plain room towards the back, used for surgery. Fireplaces existed in every room, and the windows were situated to maintain controlled air flow.

It was run by a total of three doctors, nine Confederate nurses, and sev-no, _eight _Northern nurses. And it was the nearest hospital within fifty miles, located so close to the front lines of battle that many soldiers could watch their comrades fight from their windows.

Now, mind you, Virginia had many valleys, so one could see for miles in either direction. The front lines never came _too_ close for comfort, but one could occasionally feel the foundation shake from a fired cannon.

One could occasionally see the immediate evacuations of battle-wounded soldiers. One could occasionally see the burial of a young soldier, cut off prematurely from life. One could occasionally hear the cries of a heartbroken mother or sweetheart.

A few soldiers even complained that they heard strange sounds and whispers in the winds.

Now, the hospital could be considered many things. It was old, it was rag-tag, and it seemed remotely out of place.

But Eastside Hospital was not haunted.

_Of course not. _

* * *

Some time later, Sam looked at herself in the mirror. She had just put on her blue uniform, and she stared at the girl who was her reflection. For a second, she couldn't recognize herself.

Her eyes weren't quite as innocent as they were before her journey, and her skin wasn't quite as pale as before. Her chin was held a little higher, and her expression told of an undying determination, coupled with the knowledge of war.

She just wasn't that ignorant little girl anymore.

Sam suddenly realized that maybe this was how things were meant to be. Eastside Hospital wasn't exactly what she was shooting for, but it definitely was a start. It was an opportunity, and it was a hope.

And not to mention that Danny was there, too.

At the remembrance of his name, Sam felt her concern grow once more, and she looked away from the mirror to the closed door. She was in the nurse's quarters, and it took every ounce of self control not to slam open that door, barrel down the stairs, and demand that she be taken to Danny.

But then, maybe she'd gained a little maturity too from her journey along the way.

A knock on the door alerted her to a new presence, and she turned to the door. "Come in!" she called out. A redhead peeked in through the door and then walked in.

"Ready?" Jazz asked. She wore her uniform as well, prepared to supervise the new recruit.

"Ready," Sam replied confidently.

And with that, she began her first night as a hospital nurse.

* * *

_**Did you know? Interesting Civil War Facts:**_

-**Many doctors who serviced in the Civil War had never been to medical school, but had served an apprenticeship in the office of an established practitioner. **

**-The chance of surviving a wound in Civil War days was 7 to 1.**

**-During the Civil War, one small section of Virginia became America's bloodiest battle ground. In an area of barely 20 square miles and including Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, The Wilderness, Spotsylvania and Cold Harbor, more than half a million men fought in deadly combat. Here, more men were killed and wounded during the Civil War than were killed and wounded in the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, the War with Mexico and all of the Indian wars combined. No fewer than 19 generals-10 Union and 9 Confederate-met death there. **

* * *

_Hopefully, I put a little plot in this chapter somewhere…I felt like the story was beginning to drag, so I skipped their trek to the hospital in hopes that maybe I could provide a different type of suspense and action. Speaking of which, I updated in two weeks! That's pretty amazing for me, actually. Not as good as when I updated Chained in one week, but I guess my Writer's Block is just picky._

_Has anyone ever read up on Civil War ghost stories? Anyone? If you haven't, I suggest them, especially if you're bored and it's raining outside. :) Some are really short and strange, but others are very extensive and interesting. I didn't know there were any ghost stories from the Civil War, but I guess America is slightly interesting after all…_

**1.) How was the transition between characters and point of view? Choppy or smooth?**

**2.) Are the characters still characters, or are they wooden and need more work? **

**3.) Any comments on word choice and word flow? **

**4.) Was the chapter stagnant in any way? **

**5.) Is this story still interesting, or has it lost its suspense factor? **

**6.) Any suggestions you might want to add:) **

_Thanks for reading,_

_Lightning Streak_

**Please Review!**


	10. Wounded

_Disclaimer: Don't own._

_Short Summary: A wounded soldier in the Civil War, Danny, is found by Sam, a girl longing to help out the war effort by becoming a hospital nurse. Through a twist of events, they find themselves within a strange hospital in the countryside, rumored to be haunted..._

* * *

**Desperado **

**Chapter 10: Wounded**

* * *

"How much iodine should be administered to patients with-"

"-need more bandages in the surgery room!"

"I've got two soldiers here with _severe _trauma and-!"

And Sam was beyond stressed. She'd just about flown to the supplies closet, gathered all she could into her arms, and had stumbled over five steps before she realized that the doctors needed more sedatives. Of course with that realization, she'd been forced to turn back, nearly clipping Jazz with her elbow, to the lab where the most potent of medicines were kept.

Then if she was lucky, she might have had a five minute break to sleep. After delivering the medicines, restocking bandages, and running the other nurses' errands, of course.

Three words aptly described her new job, and they were: _constant. hard. labor._

She'd never felt so worked to the bone ever before. It was a deep, unfathomable ache from every inch of her body, and it never stopped.

Hours passed. They passed as if minutes were mere seconds, and they melted together so seamlessly in Sam's mind that she lost track of the entire day. She'd been so busy…

As the new nurse, she was not yet qualified or trained to assist in surgical operations, and so the doctors sent her to do everything they couldn't. Which, all in all, was a lot. Much more than what one person could handle.

Sam would occasionally gain help from one of the nurses, but another battle had sounded across the plains, and so every nurse was needed. The sudden importance of her job was one of the few things that kept Sam going. The grateful looks that the doctors and other nurses gave her were worth it. Soldiers were quickly taken care of, and they were transferred to the recovery barracks even faster.

And all because they finally had that one nurse they'd been looking for.

Yet there were aspects of her jobs that were all but happy. Sam found her strength and will constantly tested. As she passed surgery rooms, she sometimes caught sight of gory situations. Blood. Amputations. Screams of pain. She'd quickly turn her head, eyes widening at the sudden terror that would grip her heart.

She was strong, but she wasn't invincible. And she was quickly finding that out.

Two days had passed since she and Danny had arrived. In her free time, the woman would try to go see Danny, but his doctor had commented that the soldier wasn't in visiting condition, leaving her to wonder why.

From what Sam could find out, Danny underwent multiple surgeries the night of their arrival. One for his arm (in which the muscles were completely torn), and two for his stomach (which needed the bullet removed and then the wounded area sewn up.) Of course, she didn't understand the specifics, but she hoped that perhaps one day she would.

She missed Danny.

"Oh, Sam?"

Turning around at her name, Sam's eyes landed on one of her fellow nurses. Jazz. The redhead gave her a sympathetic smile and said, "Sorry to bother you, but do you happen to have a vial of iodine with you?"

Sam just sighed and set down the three rolls of bandages and the two charts so that she could hand Jazz the small box from the lab. "I think this is it," Sam replied tiredly. She was so exhausted, she couldn't accurately read the label on the box. Her vision was blurry.

Jazz gave her a concerned look, carefully taking the box away from Sam's swaying form. "Sam?" she asked, eyes searching. "Are you okay?"

The new recruit attempted to wave away her concern, but could barely raise her arms. "'m fine." Her words were slurred just the slightest.

"You sound tired; you want me to help you?" Jazz inquired good-naturedly. "Or do you want me to leave you alone?"

Sam just about hugged her. _Oh thank God_…"Trust me," she replied with a tired smile, handing Jazz the heavy bandage rolls, "I need to be bothered. I can't feel my arms anymore." The other nurse carefully balanced the supplies in her arms as Sam picked up another shipment of medicine. She was more than relieved.

There was no way she was able to carry all of that to the surgery rooms.

"Thanks Jazz for helping," Sam said gratefully, but Jazz just shrugged.

"No problem. I was just about to head up for bed anyway."

With the two nurses working together, Sam managed to complete her duties in record time. The operation rooms were restocked and cleaned up as best as possible, the storages filled with bottles of iodine. Charts filed away in perfect order.

Sam told Jazz she could handle everything, but the older woman was adamant in helping her. Silently, Sam was thankful, even though she would never admit it. The hours passed quickly, ticking away blurred seconds. Ten o' clock…

…Midnight…

* * *

With great effort, Sam barely managed to open the door to the nurse's dormitory. Her shaking hands fumbled over the easy task, and her tired, blurred vision swam in front of her as she trudged into the room. She wanted to yawn but had no energy to do it.

She was tired.

Exhausted, Sam collapsed onto her bed with a thud. She fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. Echoes of commands and shouts permeated the walls, doctors still in surgery for their thirty-second hour.

It never ended.

The next day was only slightly less stressful, mostly due to the lack of a new battle. Sam found herself caring for outpatient soldiers, talking to them and re-bandaging their unhealed wounds. The doctors, including Ravenstorm, flurried about, anxiously checking on their numerous patients.

Sam found herself helped mostly by Jazz, and the two quickly strengthened the ties of their friendship. Between dawn and dusk, they kept each other company. The two asked questions of the other, curious of their pasts and hopes and dreams.

However, later that day, something happened.

Sam had left to get more gauze when a cry of both surprise and alarm rang out. At the cry, a familiar voice, -_Jazz?- _the girl immediately ran back down into the barracks, fearing the worst. Had something happened to one of the soldiers? Had Jazz gotten hurt?

She stumbled down the stairs, nearly toppling over one of the Confederate nurses, and quickly honed in on the cry's location. It was from one of the last beds in the barracks, and when Sam neared, even she herself gasped.

It was Danny.

Jazz was currently laughing and crying all at once, hugging Danny with all her might. The soldier's face was lit with the broadest grin Sam had ever seen, and the hospital nurse was suddenly very, very confused. What just happened?

"I can't believe it!" Jazz bubbled excitedly.

As Jazz began to babble at an incomprehensible speed, Sam internally wondered who Jazz was to Danny…

A spike of jealously.

"…You guys know each other?" Sam asked hesitantly.

The red-head turned to face her, immediately noting the strange spark of…something rather angry in Sam's eyes. Jazz barely covered a laugh with a cover before explaining rather easily, "I forgot to tell you! My brother's name is Danny!" She tilted her chin in the soldier's direction. "Specifically, this Danny!" The nurse locked in on something in Sam's gaze.

Oh yeah, Sam was jealous.

Sam blushed and nervously laughed off her misplaced envy. That she didn't have. Of course.

She swallowed hard, trying to forget what her feelings meant.

* * *

Time passed, and Danny was brought back into surgery once more. Doctor Ravenstorm admitted that he was worried about Danny's injuries, considering how long he went without true medical attention.

The doctor only hoped that he had gotten all of the shrapnel out of Danny's wounds.

He supposed that if he didn't, the shrapnel could possibly rip internal organs. Or the contaminated metal could give Danny blood poisoning, or some other form of internal infection…

The Indian sighed heavily, the weight of an unnatural world on his shoulders.

_He will die despite my actions…_

* * *

That night, a strange aura overcame the entire hospital. Footsteps no one could explain echoed throughout the night, moans from every shadow, silenced cries of pain tormented every mind. Danny thrashed in his bed, sweat trailing from his temples.

Something was wrong…

Sam couldn't sleep well that night. She tossed and turned, occasionally looking up to see if something was there.

There was something in the shadows, she knew it. It moved against the light in unnatural ways, haunting. Like a ghost.

The next morning proved to be an interesting one.

In the light of day, the hospital quieted, and its shadows reverted to normal ones.

Sam found herself time to relax during breakfast. Her eyes trailed the rising sun with something of hardened curiosity. "I wonder why this place is haunted," she whispered.

"I dunno," came a deep voice from beside her.

Turning her head, Sam's eyes widened. "Danny!" The soldier looked down at her and smiled. He was leaning up against a wall, left arm heavily bandaged, white shirt unbuttoned at the top.

"Hey, Sam." He was pale, much more pale than she'd last seen him

"Danny, what are you doing out of bed?"

He shrugged, nearly wincing at the action. "Wanted to see you," he said noncommittally, but his eyes softened at his words.

"But you're hurt!" She couldn't help but fuss over him. "You've been injured; you should be resting, or…or at least sitting down, or something!"

Danny clenched one of his fists, as if testing his strength. He inhaled sharply at the strong pain, but the busy sounds of the hospital covered it. "I'm fine, Sam," he told her lightly, immediately unclenching his hand. "You worry too much, you know that?"

Violet eyes stared at him, completely unconvinced. "Right," she deadpanned. "And my concern for your health is obviously unfounded."

He smiled brightly, "Well, I'm walking around, aren't I?"

"Yeah, barely."

She noticed that his smile was a little lopsided. "Thinking of you helps," Danny replied, voice casual.

And she laughed a little, and he laughed, and for one moment in time, life was perfect.

But it was to quickly come to an end.

"C-can I help you with anything?" Danny asked good-naturedly, a bit nervous as well.

Sam eyed him in concern. "I don't know if you should help, Danny."

Like a little kid, his face fell.

"…But I guess," she relented slowly, "you could help me carry blankets to the rooms."

Hope lit his eyes. "Okay."

In the hours that passed, they talked. Mostly of nothing, but sometimes of serious topics, like the war. Danny tried to steer the conversation into an optimistic light, often joking at his own expense.

Sam caught Danny staring at her more than once, and Danny caught Sam blushing just as many times.

Sometimes, Danny took breaks from helping her, disappearing for a short while. In those times by herself, Sam fought to hide her smile. It was a strange fuzzy feeling within, watching Danny help her. Being with Danny. Talking and laughing with him…

She'd shake her head at herself in pity. She knew the signs. She knew exactly what it meant for her heart to race at the sight of him.

Nevertheless, she kept a close eye on any indication that he had overworked himself. He was still on pain medication, and she didn't want Danny to hurt himself. He'd never admit to being in pain. She rolled her eyes in concerned exasperation. _That idiot…_She glanced back at him, face softening.

Sam loved him for it. For everything. She didn't want anything to end because _finally_, life was perfect.

The sun set slowly that day, sinking into the sky with such reluctance.

"-and so I tried to tell them differently, but…" A sharp inhale cut her off. Sam glanced at Danny out of the corner of her eye. "Danny?"

He suddenly glanced up, expression contorted in pain. "I'm s-sorry, Sam," he apologized. He attempted to smile. "I just moved wrong; I'll be fine."

Sam gave him a concerned look as they walked through the hospital doors back into the hallways. His hands, which were shaking, clutched his side, and his vision grew more and more unfocused as time passed. Without even thinking, she laid a hand on his broad shoulder and asked in fear, "Hey, are you alright?" But he merely gave her a tired, disarming smile.

She didn't believe it. Danny never admitted to his pain. Was he relapsing? Had his wounds reopened? Was his sickness getting worse?

But she was snapped out of her thoughts. She suddenly noticed that the hospital was incredibly noisy, and she turned her head to the raise of sound. There, in the hallways, something was going on; a commotion. With a start, she realized that the commanding orders and doctors and nurses all seemed to be coming from Danny's room.

The girl looked back up at Danny and saw that he was grimacing in pain, his eyes tightly squeezed shut. "Danny?" She glanced back at the room, now pulling him with her. Her tone was curious but guarded. "What's going on? Why are they in your room? What are-?"

Suddenly, Danny froze in his tracks, inhaling sharply. His posture heightened; his eyes focused as if struck by some revelation. And when he turned to her, his eyes were bright in the torchlight, shining darkly. Grabbing Sam by the elbows with strong hands, he pulled her closer to him, stopping her. "Sam, don't go in there."

The girl just gave him a strange look in confusion, and she tried to fight against the soldier's grip, but he was too strong. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice slightly stressed.

"Please, Sam…" Danny's voice was soft, and his too-bright blue eyes suddenly focused on hers so intensely that she lost her breath. "I don't want to hurt you."

"_Hurt_ me?" Sam replied incredulously. "Why would you hurt me?"

Danny pulled her into a tight embrace. His strong arms wrapped around her frame, and his cold body reveled in her warmth. As if he were saying goodbye, the soldier whispered brokenly in her ear, "_Because I love you._"

She could have sworn his confession echoed, even against the rapid beating of her heart.

He suddenly released her, and the moment he did, a trembling hand on her shoulder turned her around. It was Jazz.

She was crying hysterically, and her hands were shaking so badly that she looked scared beyond wit's end. "Sam! Oh, Sam! Thank God I found you!" Without so much of an explanation, she pleadingly dragged Sam towards Danny's room and away from the soldier. "I didn't know where you were at, and I was trying to find you, and I-"

"-Jazz?" Sam's voice was dazed and lost; confusion was written on her face. "What's going on?" And for a second, her friend didn't answer as silent tears streamed down her face. "_Jazz,_" she said more slowly, more deliberately. "What's going on?"

A sob escaped Jazz's lips as she turned to face her friend. "Danny took a turn for the worse…" she whispered, her lips quivering. "Oh God, Sam! Danny…He's…d-dying…!"

And suddenly, the shouts of the doctors seemed silent. Something cold and slithering crawled down Sam's spine, and her heart stopped cold. "W-what?" Her eyes grew wide in alarm and disbelief. She seemed frozen in her spot, even as Jazz desperately tried to get her to move.

"Come on!" she cried. "Please, we have to go, we have to save him, Sam!"

Slowly, Sam managed to unfreeze herself. "B-but I don't understand! He was right here! Danny was-!" In that instant, Sam cut herself off. And with an unearthly chill, she broke away from Jazz, turning around to look behind her.

Her eyes widened, and some unexplainable horror gripped her heart.

The hallway was abandoned.

Danny wasn't there.

* * *

_Hello, everyone! I'm, once again, apologizing for the insane amount of time it's been since I've updated and for the rushed update. Please forgive me, I got a job! :( But anywho, this chapter was pretty fun to write. There were a few filler parts in it, but I think it came out alight. Hopefully the ending's not too confusing... Thank you all for the wonderful reviews I received last chapter! I was reading through them this morning, and that was what made me get in gear and write this chapter. _

_Song inspiration: Walking With a Ghost by Tegan and Sara_

_Chapter Updated: Friday, May 29, 2009 at 3:15 P.M._

**1.) Character comments? Out of touch or right on target?**

**2.) Plot? Any apparent holes, bad scenes, or general criticism?**

**3.) Chapter effect? Attention keeper or a yawn?**

**4.) Overall story effect?**

**5.) Any other comments? :)**

_Thank you all so much for reading, _

_Lightning Streak_

**Please Review!**


	11. Ghostly Whispers

_Disclaimer: This unworthy one doth not own-eth._

_Thanks everyone for reviewing and inspiring me to continue writing!_

**

* * *

**

**Desperado **

**Chapter 11: Ghostly Whispers**

* * *

The moment she stumbled into his room, Sam instantly wished that she hadn't. Two doctors and two nurses hovered over the bed, shouting commands. Whispers. Glinting silver passed from hand to hand; cold compresses, clipboards, and sorrowful expressions. A bible.

And there, lying on the bed, was Danny.

The body looked like him, but Sam refused to believe it truly was. His proud uniform cast aside, he shivered underneath the blankets. "…Danny?" she whispered, but her voice was overshadowed by Jazz's incessant sobs and cries to save her brother.

One doctor took Danny's pulse from his neck as another raised his limp, pale arm, quickly untying a stained bandage. The doctors inspected the newly stitched wound, which had unfortunately unraveled

Sam's trained eye stared for the longest time at his arm. The long, incised cut was puffed with yellow, bleeding infection; the strangest color of blood.

"I don't understand," one of the doctors admitted. "We cleaned out the infection two days ago? Why is it reappearing?"

Jazz covered her mouth, eyes sightless with unending tears as she tried to stifle her uncontrollable cries. "He's…h-he's dying," she whispered unsteadily, almost to herself. On the brink of hysterics, she fought only for Danny's sake.

Sam could merely stare in shock at the man she thought had just been standing beside her…

* * *

It would be hours until things calmed.

A persistent knocking alerted the doctor to a visitor. He knew exactly who it was. "Come in, Sam," Dr. Ravenstorm sighed in tiredness. The door swung open haphazardly, revealing the slim silhouette of a particular nurse.

"Talk with me," she demanded. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she held her chin high in determination and purpose.

The doctor glanced at his ungodly amounts of paperwork before dutifully setting aside, folding his hands together on top of the desk. "Alright, Sam," he relented. "What?"

"Danny," she said simply. Her voice caught a bit on his name, but she swallowed hard. "Tell me what's wrong. Tell me what's going on _right now_."

The doctor just shook his head. "Sam, his condition has not changed for days."

"But I don't understand," Sam whispered frantically. "He was fine just this morning; he talked to me!"

Dr. Ravenstorm gave her a strange look. "Danny has been bedridden since his second surgery."

"When was his surgery?"

"Last night, Sam," the doctor said, still suspicious. "You're saying you saw him this morning?"

"Yes!" She pressed her lips together for a moment. "He was walking around; he found me." Her violet eyes grew distant. "We talked, he helped me…"

"Are you positive you didn't just…dream this?"

Her eyes hardened. "I'm absolutely positive."

The doctor's eyes softened. "Perhaps you should lie down, Sam. What you're saying is impossible."

"No, no it's not!" Sam slammed her fist down on the desk. "He was there with me for the entire day-!"

"-He's been delirious in his room all day-"

Sam didn't even acknowledge the doctor's words. "-and we talked, and I hugged him once, and-"

"-His health declined around noon today. I'm thinking it's a blood infection, sepsis of some kind, but there's nothing I-"

"-and his voice sounded so real, he _felt _so real!" Sam pressed desperately. "Please tell me I'm not going crazy, and that I just imagined him!"

Dr. Ravenstorm's eyes suddenly closed. A thought hit him. He didn't want to do this, but…"How long have you been here, Miss Manson?"

She blinked at the unrelated question. "A few weeks, why?"

"Have you…noticed anything different about this hospital, Miss Manson?"

Sam bit her lip. "Well, I think it's haunted, but-"

"-Exactly."

She gave him a disbelieving look. "What do you mean?"

The doctor leaned forward and said quietly, "I don't know exactly what you saw, but I'm willing to bet money that the Danny you saw was a ghost projection of his former self."

Sam's violet eyes widened. "You must be joking!" Weird chills came over her. "I'm not an idiot, Doctor, and I refuse to believe _Danny_-"

"I'm not saying it's impossible, Miss, but I do believe that-"

"-People have to be dead in order to have a ghost," Sam cut in harshly. "Are you saying that Danny's dead, even though I _know_ he's still alive?"

Dr. Ravenstorm sighed heavily. "It's a complicated explanation, Sam…"

She sat down in the chair opposite of him. "I have time," she replied. "And I want you to explain to me how Danny could just disappear in front of me. I want you to tell me why _I_ was the only one who could see him." Her gaze grew uneasy. "Jazz came to get me, but she didn't see him. And when I turned around, he was just…gone."

The old Indian nodded. "I'm about to tell you something very important, Samantha, and I want you to listen good."

She leaned forward in her chair, and so did he. "You are aware of my Indian heritage, yes?" he asked her. She nodded. "And you are aware that many tribes claim to wield certain powers?" She nodded again.

"I do believe that you are unfamiliar with Indian lore. What do you know?"

Sam thought hard. "Well," she said slowly, "I know they believe in a Creator, and that a…coyote? Right? Became arrogant and evil, and he corrupted the world somehow." She paused. "I'd like to know how this involves whatever the hell's going on right now."

He nodded. "In the beginning of time, the Creator charged each Indian tribe with a specific responsibility to control the chaos of the universe unleashed by the Coyote. The Creator wanted to curb the abilities of the coyote, and these responsibilities helped to restore that order. My Cherokee tribe was charged with the responsibility to purge the world of lost souls."

Sam stared at him. "And this pertains to me seeing a not-Danny, how?"

"It pertains because it explains the strange happenings around here." Dr. Ravenstorm inhaled deeply before admitting, "Basically, I see the walking dead, and they know it." Her eyes widened. Her hands gripped the desk's edge so hard her knuckles bled white. "Sometimes I can manage to save their souls and guide them to their salvation. Other times, the ghost must be destroyed."

"Depending on the mood of the individual ghosts, they'll allow me to see them. They flock to me, you see, and I try to help them." He smiled wryly. "The Creator gave my tribe specific powers through which we could more easily dispatch lost souls to the Hunting Grounds in the Sky…" He shook his head. "And I believe that your friend, Danny, somehow managed to tap into that power."

"But how?"

The doctor shrugged. "Because the gift is eternally connected to thought projection and metaphysics, it is not impossible for a regular human to occasionally feel its effects. It is… of a higher power than humans, Sam. I cannot always control it."

"So you're saying he just took this power?" Sam deadpanned.

"It is very possible that Danny managed to subconsciously tap into that energy to project himself for you, like an out-of-body-experience." Dr. Ravenstorm smiled a bit wearily, a bit sadly. "I think his last wish was to see you, Samantha."

She didn't even acknowledge her full name. Something in his words scared her. "You make it sound like he's dead."

The doctor shook his head. "No, but I believe his time is coming. There is little more I can do." He sighed. "And now that he's been exposed to this energy, my guess is he'll be more receptive to use it…"

Sam gave Jeddah a strange look. "You know," she said, "if you're a ghost whisperer, why are you a doctor?"

He smiled sadly. "I became a doctor so that I could save lost souls before they died, and maybe prevent such unpleasant afterlives. It is rewarding when I accomplish that."

"…Can you save Danny?"

He sighed. "I fear, Danny's fate is in his own hands. That is all I can say."

"Do you think that he'll become a ghost?"

"He is attached to this world. He will want to stay here."

It was quiet for sometime after that. Sam's lips quivered. "But I want him to stay, too."

* * *

That night, Sam rushed to Danny's quarters. She could hear his labored breaths before she even opened the door. "Danny?" she whispered.

His overly bright eyes locked on hers before closing. "Sam…"

She nearly stumbled in her attempt to run to him. Leaning beside his bed, she brushed her fingertips against his sweating temples. "Hey, Danny," she greeted quietly, voice shaking. Her lips quivered into a weak smile. "I'm so sorry. I tried to come earlier, but I was talking with Dr. Ravenstorm."

Weak. He looked weak, and that scared her more than anything else could.

He smiled tiredly, "'s alright." He leaned into her touch, breathing in her familiar scent. "Missed you. So much."

"I missed you too," she said. She tried to smile brightly for him, but she faltered. He caught the fear in her gaze.

"I know, Sam," he whispered to her. "You don't have to hide it."

"I don't want you to die, Danny," she said shakily.

He looked into her eyes, gaze frightened. "_I _don't wanna die, Sam. I'm scared."

Tears slipped down her cheeks. "I know, Danny. I know." She placed his large hand against her face. "I'm scared too." Her breath hitched. "And I don't even know if you remember it, but I had the greatest day of my life with you." She smiled wanly. "We talked, you helped me, and we watched the sunset."

His thumb tiredly stroked her temple, and he reveled in the warmth of her touch.

"I…I told you I loved you," he whispered, eyes distant. "And then I was back here." His lips pulled into a frown. "I can't remember everything…" He gasped as pain clawed down his spine.

Sam's eyes widened, and her tears fell faster. "Isn't there anything they can do?"

His lips quivered, "No…" He tried to clench his hand into a fist, but he miserably failed. "It's in my blood." He glanced up. "I've had it for awhile, but no one caught it…"

His fever was climbing.

"God, there's so much I want to do," he desperately whispered to her. "I'm not ready to die, Sam!"

"What do you want to do?" She held onto his hand tightly.

His feverishly blue eyes misted in distant thought. "I wanted to see this war end. I wanted to see the country. I wanted to see my family again. I wanted to _have_ a family." In the desperation of the moment, he didn't blush when he glanced up at her. "I wanted to love you, Sam."

Her heart broke. "I wanted to love you, Danny." She placed a gentle kiss on his rough cheek, and his hand suddenly gripped her wrist, and he held her there beside him.

"I wanted to kiss you," he whispered to her.

Nervously, she leaned over him and placed her lips against his. And suddenly, every other thought blanked. Danny kissed her back without shame. His pain dampened.

There was little explanation for the way they were made for one another. Stars spun, angels sang, and they both liked it so much that Danny deepened the kiss.

But suddenly he gasped in pain, and Sam quickly pulled away, eyes searching his in fear. His blue vision unfocused for but one moment, and Sam had the horrible fear that his body had finally given up. But then, Danny gave a shuddering inhale, and he moaned, glancing back up at her in sorrow. "I'm s-sorry," he told her. Sam swallowed hard, tears welling behind her eyes.

She half-heartedly dragged the bucket of cold water over to the bed, and she dunked the paired washcloth into it, gently ringing it out. She ran the washcloth across his temples, and he closed his eyes as the cold water brought slight relief from the fever that raged beneath his skin. "Don't apologize, Danny. You're my best friend," she whispered, and her voice cracked with sadness. "I just don't want to lose you."

* * *

It was long past sundown, and the hospital was slowing down into night protocol. A lone man drifted through the halls, eyeing the shadows that danced within the torchlight's flames. It was a full moon that night. It was a perfect night.

_Now or never_, the doctor concluded.

He turned to a specific hallways before stopping next to his destination. The room of Private Daniel Fenton. It was time.

Daniel Fenton's fate was in his own hands, obviously, but there were still options…

The doctor gently opened the door, closing it as quietly as possible. If the nurses knew he was there, disturbing a dying patient… Danny's unnaturally bright eyes flickered suddenly up in awareness, watching the doctor curiously. He stared down in pity at the boy. "I am old, Danny," he admitted. "I have seen so many suns, so many moons…" His gaze grew distant. "For fifty-five years, I have carried the burden of my tribe, and I am tired. I want rest. I want peace." He glanced down at Danny. "However, you do not want rest. You want life. You want challenge. You want the power that I wish to give away."

He frowned. "You're also dying. If this continues, you'll permanently become a ghost in this world."

Danny's fevered eyes watched him. "I know," he whispered tiredly. "It's so strange…" His chest raised with a labored breath. "I'm swimming, I think." Drifting…

Jedidiah rested his palm on Danny's forehead. "Tell me, do you want the responsibility that comes with power?"

Danny closed his eyes. It had already been discussed between them. He already knew his answer. "Yes."

"And why?"

"To live," came his quiet whisper.

Jedidiah smiled ironically. "And so you die to live. Poetic." He frowned. "You will walk the borderline of life and death for the rest of your life, if you accept this. You must pass the gift to another person worthy of it before your true death."

The solider inhaled, "Okay."

Setting his palm on the boy's chest, the doctor said simply, "When you awake, fear not." His tired face softened. "Thank you, Daniel, for the peace you have granted me."

And suddenly, his hand glowed a brilliant emerald. The stars twisted and turned. The shadows spun into shapes and colors. Eyes. The universe and every soul within it suddenly realigned from the doctor's to Danny's.

"…Will it hurt?" came the boy's curious question.

The doctor swallowed, "Possibly. Those of my tribe were trained for the burden of the Soul Universe. You were not."

Jedidiah shoved the power into Danny's heart.

Danny gasped, blue eyes wide. His back arched under the power. Heart beating madly against his chest, he felt a coldness overcome him. His blood slowed, his eyes burned, his lungs froze…

And then, darkness.

* * *

_Well, it's 2010! Hard to believe that I still haven't finished this story. It's life, I guess. Either way, I do hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I promise to update this sooner. (I already have a page of the next chapter.) It took me awhile to figure out the ghost-plot of this, which has officially been resolved! Yay! Now I actually know what I'm doing, for once! _

**1.) Character comments? Out of touch or right on target?**

**2.) Plot? Any apparent holes, bad scenes, or general criticism?**

**3.) Chapter effect? Attention keeper or a yawn?**

**4.) Any other comments? :)**

_Thank you all so much for reading, _

_Lightning Streak_

**Please Review! :)**


	12. Lessons and Surprises

_…O_o; What's this? I'm actually updating this story? Gasp! I would definitely suggest looking over old chappies, first. It's been awhile... ahem..._

* * *

**Desperado**

**Chapter 12: Lessons and Surprises **

* * *

That night, the haunting at the hospital raged beyond dreams and nightmares. Souls walked, moaning for their lost and decimated lives. Cries. Screams.

"_Save us!_" they pleaded.

Danny's eyes swiveled and darted underneath his eyelids. Sounds and auras that he had never heard or seen before swam around his body. His lips parted in sleepless words as his hands clenched the bed sheets.

"_Save us!_"

Suddenly, he shot upwards, chest heaving with gasping breaths, sweat beading from his temples. The soldier's eyes darted everywhere and nowhere, filled with the sights of a new world. Colors. Lights. Sounds.

Jedidiah looked up from his book. "Glad to see you're awake," he commented cheerfully.

His voice barely registered in Danny's mind, and when he glanced over at Jedidiah, the ghostly whispers of fog and cold darkness nearly overwhelmed his sight. He winced at the pull and twisting of his body between two worlds.

"What's going on?" he gritted his teeth, holding his head in his hands.

"It's just a little aftershock," Jedidiah replied comfortingly. "It'll go away, just as soon as your soul aligns with the Universe again."

Danny blinked as his vision reined into some sort of normalcy. The voices and auras stopped. He could still hear the cries, if he listened close enough. He shakingly stood up from the bed, feeling energy pool through every vein. He felt weak and yet strong. "I'm still…_me_, right?" he asked uncertainly.

"Come," Jedidiah waved him over, setting down his book to pick up something small and rectangular. A mirror. "See for yourself."

Each step felt odd, as if he were too light for gravity. Power, strength he never had made the mirror feel as if it were a feather in his grasp. He stared at himself in the dilapidated mirror, and his shaking hand gently touched his bright, snowy locks. Emerald eyes widened. His jaw unhinged at the radical change, and he nearly dropped the mirror. "Oh God."

He stumbled backwards, without direction, and he half-tripped over the bed. The mirror fell to the tangled sheets. Pain shot through him, and he remembered he was still injured. He stared at his arm, and panic overwhelmed him again.

_Holy-!_

Danny pointed frantically at his wounds, "What the hell is this?" His arm wound was bleeding both glowing green and red blood. "What's going on?"

Jedidiah gave him a curious look. "Did you believe you could walk in the Soul Universe without ghostly traits of your own?"

Danny stared dumbfounded at his closing wounds. His blood still trailed, but he could see his skin stitching back together. He could _see_ it healing.

"In order to walk both worlds," the old Indian explained, "the body was given the essence of a ghost. It connects you; it gives you otherworldly strength. It has bonded with your soul, and it will not leave you until you pass down the power to another worthy person."

"I'm a freak," he whispered, "I'm not even human anymore."

"No," the doctor said. "You are human. Just…part of it has been overshadowed."

"So I'm a…hybrid or something?"

Jedidiah nodded. "In theory, yes. You are now of two worlds." He frowned. "But you are not invincible, remember that. In your human form, you can still die."

Danny watched as his wounds closed themselves, skin patching itself seamlessly. He could feel his lungs breathe easier. He could feel the pools of energy lying just beneath the surface of his body push against his injuries, filling in the damage with swirling, green energy that transformed into blood and skin.

"I…" he trailed hopelessly, eyes wide. "I know we talked about this, but…"

"Never doubt the past, Daniel. It's far too late to change that which cannot be undone." Jedidiah gave him a knowing look. "Surely, you do not wish for the alternative."

"Yeah, this is a lot better than dying," he agreed slowly, still distracted. "Still, I just…" His emerald eyes were wide as he continued to stare at his healing arm. "Wait till everybody hears about this…"

The doctor frowned. "Now, listen carefully. Very few people here knew of my powers," Jedidiah said. "I suggest that you act in a similar manner."

"Why?" Danny asked innocently, glancing up. "I mean, you can't really expect me to _hide_ this from people, do you?"

"You would be amazed at the intolerance society holds against those who are different," Dr. Ravenstorm said slowly. "Long ago, when the settlers discovered my tribe's power, they hunted us. Now, they have scattered us across the country in the name of Manifest Destiny. I would hate to see you suffer the hatred that I have."

Danny's eyes narrowed in thought, temporarily placing his own concerns in the back of his mind. "So wait…the government doesn't just want Indian land? They want to destroy you guys?"

Jedidiah's gaze was sad. "They feared that our power from the Creator would disrupt the ideals they carried with them from Europe." He waved off Danny's questioning and disturbed gaze. "But that is a story for another time, one that is not yet finished. This talk of Manifest Destiny will end the era of my kind, but our spirits will live on through people such as yourself. We cannot be entirely oppressed."

"And just how many are there like me?" Danny pressed. "You know, who carry on this…uh, tradition from the Creator?"

Jedidiah turned away. "Very few, now. Very few." He sighed. "Many of us died before we could pass down our responsibility. But you need not worry. You have far more important things to worry about than an old feud between races. You should worry about maintaining your secret and learning to control your powers."

He stared into the old Indian doctor's eyes with a stubborn glint. "Look, I know I don't understand everything about these powers, or the war between you guys and the government, but Sam would _never _act that way to me," Danny told Jedidiah firmly. "She'd never turn me away. I can tell her about this, and she'll still accept me."

"Will she?" Jedidiah questioned, eyebrow raised. "You hold a lot of faith in your friends."

"They have a lot of faith in _me,_"Danny replied back. "I know I have people to count on."

The doctor loosed a suffering sigh. "Things change, Daniel. I had to learn that lesson the hard way. People will trust _you_, but they will never trust your ghost side from the Creator. Perhaps Miss Manson, knowing who she is, will accept you to an extent, but the risks are too great to let her know _everything_."

Something about that left a strange taste in Danny's mouth. "So what…what do you think I should say, then?"

"Tell her you're a medium, or a ghost whisperer," Jedidiah suggested. "Something along those lines." He added in warning, "And, whatever you do, don't lose yourself to the power. If you do, then your soul may never return."

Danny gulped as he glanced down at his hands.

"You, Daniel," the doctor continued, "have tremendous power, and with that comes specific obligations." He watched as Danny stared at his glowing hands. "Your powers will grow in time, and so will your missions. To protect yourself, I would suggest keeping this a secret, and I trust that you will thrive in my place as a guardian of such power. You will make the Creator proud."

The two fell into silence.

"Dr. Ravenstorm," Danny said hesitantly, "do you think this…power is a gift or a burden?"

The old man's lips twitched. "In the same way that you find yourself caught between opposite forces, so is it with life. Some days, your gift will be a blessing, and you will save countless souls from harm. Other days, your gift will interfere with the common pleasures of life, and you may envy normal humans." He raised a brow. "I believe today, however, it is a blessing. It has saved you."

Danny closed his eyes, breathing deeply. No pain. For the first time in weeks, he had no pain.

A relieved smile lit his face. _Maybe this won't be so bad._

* * *

The doctor had suggested he test his newly established powers. And so here he was in the middle of the night, wavering between intangible and human, hesitant. A wall was in front of him, solid and concrete and repelling.

He inhaled deeply before placing his hand on the smooth stones. It quickly sunk, and in fear, he pulled his tingling hand out.

"Weird," he shivered, staring at the wall in suspicion. Walls were not supposed to feel so…unsolid? So much like air?

"Do not be afraid of the unknown, Danny," Jedidiah told him, sitting back in his chair.

The small boy that still existed in Danny's psyche sparked his need to try it again, simply because it was truly the strangest thing he'd ever done. So Danny stuck his hand into the wall again, and this time he held it there.

He walked forward, and his whole arm disappeared into the wall.

"This is called intangibility," Jedidiah schooled him patiently. "No, no-don't take your arm out of the wall yet. You will need to master this talent as quickly as possible, and know the extent of its power. Try to spread the power over your whole body now. See if you can walk through the wall entirely."

Danny was barely listening. "Okay," he said hesitantly, emerald eyes still trained on his missing arm, and the wall it was buried in. He shivered at the thought. "But if I get stuck, I'm blaming you."

Jedidiah chuckled. "There will be no need for that. Just…concentrate."

He breathed deeply. Taking a leap of faith, Danny took a large step again, squeezing his eyes shut. Air whooshed and suctioned in his ears. When he opened his eyes, he was staring at the décor of another room.

His emerald eyes widened, and he stood there for quite some time, admiring the ability itself. "Wow…" A small, lop-sided smirk raised his lips. "You know, that's not so bad."

When he rounded back to his original room, Jedidiah was still sitting there. He raised a brow. "You learn quickly. It seems as though the Soul Universe has aligned quite well to you." Then, the doctor frowned. "Although perhaps not as well as I would have hoped."

Danny glanced down at himself and realized he'd sunk a couple of feet. His legs had fallen through the floor. He gulped and quickly tried to recover, but he landed awkwardly on the hard floor and he stumbled in a twist of limbs.

"Uh, oops," he admitted, quickly standing and blushing as he desperately tried to right himself. "I, uh, didn't mean to do that."

When he glanced back at Jedidiah, the old Indian was laughing with his eyes. "Again. This time only allow your body to do what you _will_ it to do."

Danny sighed, and feeling a bit sheepish, he tried again under Jedidiah's supervision.

In the course of the night, Daniel also discovered his new talents for invisibility and flight (although he was pretty shaky on it). Dr. Ravenstorm told him as he further aligned to the Universe, he would exhibit more powers and capabilities. In the meantime though, he had his hands full.

At least, they were full when he didn't accidentally activate his intangibility powers and wake up half the hospital with all the racket…

* * *

7:00 AM the following morning, Dr. Ravenstorm blocked Danny's room from all visitors and unneeded nurses. He explained to the medical team that he'd put Danny in a short, induced sleep after a successful 'surgery.'

Sam was a little suspicious (how had he completed a surgery without aid?), but she respected the doctor's orders. As long as Danny was still alive, and she was one of the nurses with clearance to see him, she'd be okay. Buckets of relief had fallen from her shoulders when Dr. Ravenstorm had turned to her and Jazz in the night with a tired, happy gaze and said, "He'll live."

It felt like years of stress had suddenly lifted; like some inherent part of her own soul was set back in place.

She hummed as she worked that morning, knowing in her heart that the first chance she had to visit Danny, she would. Even if he was still asleep, she'd sit by his side and hold his hand until he woke up.

But for now, she was on blanket duty again, collecting old ones and replacing them with newly washed bed sheets. Many of the patients from the last battle were waking up and milling about, learning to walk again and wheel themselves about. Only a couple of rooms more, and she'd be free…

The last room she was required to clean up was the final bed in the hall, which had a window that overlooked the south balcony and lands. Said balcony spanned the entire width of the mansion, held up by great pillars that were rooted deep in the ground.

Her purple eyes dilated against the harsh sunlight pouring through the windows, and she narrowed her gaze. How annoying. It was like the sun was _trying_ to blind her, honestly.

But after pulling off the sheets and putting new ones back on, her eyes were sufficiently adjusted to the bright light, and she couldn't help but look outside. A small smile of satisfaction cross her lips when she leaned against the window ledge, observing the many soldiers now awake and steady. She watched their determined steps grow more confident without crutches and canes.

Maybe this room wasn't so bad after all…

But then, her eyes landed on the corner of the balcony, and her smile froze on her face. Her heart dropped somewhere into her shoes; her hands slipped from the window ledge.

"…_Danny_?" she whispered incredulously, purple eyes widening. She couldn't look away. "Oh my…"

The solider had to be Danny…

But _how_? Wasn't Danny still asleep, healing from surgery?

Heart pounding, Sam ran out of the room, through the connecting hall, and out into the open air of the balcony, purple eyes searching

"Danny?" she called out fearfully. "Danny!"

He was leaning against the wall, face pale, eyes closed in some form of harmony. The wind blew his thick hair and ruffled his clothes, and it seemed he was simply enjoying the morning atmosphere. Sam feared that perhaps this was repeat of last time, a ghost projection. Was he just a hallucination? A manifestation of his dying self?

His eyes cracked open, and when he spotted her, a great smile brightened his face. "Hey, Sam," he said.

The few others that were on the balcony glanced at the sudden noise from the corner.

Other people could see him.

Thank God.

He was _real_.

She collapsed to her knees beside him a great rush, immediately throwing her arms about him. Solid. He was completely solid. "You idiot!" she scolded him, ecstatic that he was alive and okay, and not in a coma, or hurt, or… "What are you doing out of bed? Don't you know you're risking infection to be out here? How long ago did you wake up?" She held him as tightly she dared, afraid to hurt him and yet desperate to be closer, to prove he was _real_.

He shrugged. "Woke up a couple of hours ago. I figured you were busy, so I came out here to enjoy the sunshine." He smiled a genuine smile. "First time I've been able to do that in a while."

Sam instinctively brushed the bangs out of his clear, blue eyes. No fever. "Relax, Sam," he told her laughingly, pulling her back into a tight embrace. "I'm okay." His light chuckle was warm and content, and his voice thrummed strongly in his chest. "I'm actually okay!"

Resting her head against his shoulder, she realized the arm around her didn't have a bandage. She also couldn't feel one wrapped about his torso either.

She swallowed hard, mind racing. "What happened?" she asked, voice muffled by his white shirt. "How are you…like this?" She pulled away, resting her hesitant hand against the smooth plane of his stomach. It seemed many of society's boundaries between them had burned away in the threat of death. "No blood, no bandages?"

Danny blushed, but his eyes were dancing. "Dr. Ravenstorm fixed me up," he explained lightly. He placed his hand over Sam's. "I'm not even in pain anymore!"

Her mind was spinning. "But we don't have anything…I don't know of _any _medicine or operation that could heal someone this fast!" Before he could cut in, Sam added, violet eyes deep with emotion. "You were dying, Danny." Her voice caught a bit. "_Dying_. How did…?"

"Does it matter?" he interrupted lightly, standing up on tall legs and pulling her up with him. "I'm healed, Sam." His voice softened. "I'm gonna _live_."

She swallowed hard, and her eyes blurred. It sounded too good to be true. Maybe it was.

When she froze, he searched her eyes, cupping her face. "Sam?" he joked. "You in there? Sam?"

His touch solidified the reality that Danny, _her _Danny, was alive and well. Suddenly, the full force of his miraculous recovery slammed through to her heart and soul, and she barreled back into him, holding on to him like a life line. Tears of joy slipped down her face, even as she tried to control her emotions. "Oh my God," she cried happily. Words failed her. "I-I just…Oh my God!"

She felt like the sun was bursting from her skin.

He picked her up and swung her around with strong arms, laughing. And in the hype of the moment, he gently pulled her to him, kissing her full on the mouth. She locked her fingers on the back of his neck, pining him to her as their kiss deepened.

But with her eyes closed, she missed the way the outline of his body seemed to literally _glow_ in happiness…

* * *

_Whoa, baby. I actually updated! Thanks again to everybody who's been super awesome and asking me to update and/or reviewing this old story. Just knocked the cobwebs off of it. It'd been sitting too long on the proverbial shelf in My Documents, and I was starting to feel really bad about it. I know this chapter was kinda small, and it didn't really have a big cliff-hanger, but if anyone's actually still interested in this story and all the plot twists I have in my mind, I'm willing to continue writing it. :)_

_Chapter updated: August 26__th__, 2011 at 7:00 P.M._

_Chapter Inspiration: Any song from the awesome band Nickel Creek. _

**1. Characters? Interaction between Danny and Jedidiah? Danny and Sam? **

**2. Grammar/mechanics? **

**3. Plot? **

**4. Suggestions/Questions/Predictions? **

_Thanks for reading, _

_Lightning Streak_

**Please Review and Tell Me What You Think! **


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